


Mr. Carter and Mrs. Rogers

by The_Marauders_Daughter



Series: Mr. Carter and Mrs. Rogers [2]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Agent Carter AU, Agent Carter is a BAMF, Captain America AU, F/M, Follows Agent Carter (sort of), I can't help myself, Mr. Carter - Freeform, Mrs. Rogers - Freeform, Porn With Plot, Secret Marriage, Smut, Steve didn't go down in the ice, Steve's not dead, no one dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Marauders_Daughter/pseuds/The_Marauders_Daughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve went down in the ice and left something for Peggy in case of his death. What happens when he's not as dead as he seems? Steve wants to help Peggy out, but she is a badass that can handle things on her own, thank you very much, darling. AU, but follows along season 1 of Agent Carter.<br/>CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION: Updated 09Nov2016- Ch 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Not-So-Empty Grave

**Author's Note:**

> So... I'm not dead! Two-year hiatus is totally normal, right?
> 
> I love Peggy Carter and her TV show got a second season (YAY!!!), which led to many of us wondering what would have happened if Steve hadn't "died" in the ice and instead had been present for the events of Agent Carter. Better writers than me have attempted and succeeded, so I'm gonna throw my hat in the ring and give it a try. 
> 
> A/N: CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION. Updated 09Nov2016- Ch 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers crashes the Valkyrie into the Arctic Circle. He is declared KIA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 09Nov2016- Chapter Updated

“Peggy, this is my choice.”

The words echoed in Peggy’s mind, over the desperate cries that it wasn’t true, that none of this was happening, that she would wake up any moment, some private telling her that she was needed for a meeting. Steve’s words overrode her prayers and in a flash she was back in that bombed pub, crying with Steve over James Barnes’ fate. She remembered her telling him the same thing, wishing it was all a nightmare. Fate was cruel to take James from him, and now Steve from her.

Peggy pushed away the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She’s had the same talk with him that night: they were at war. It was James’ choice to enlist, and he knew that death was a possibility, and Steve was still struggling to cope with that fact. She’d finally managed to make him see some reason, and Steve was left lamenting that there wasn't even a body he could take home to James’ mother and sister. All the words and thoughts linked together in Peggy’s mind in a microsecond. “At least give me a body to bury, Steve, goddammit,” she begged.

There was a pause, and Peggy was about to start talking again when he spoke. “78° 29’ 25.98’’ N, 12° 39’ 22.5’’ W.”

“Someone get Stark,” a voice hissed behind her. Feet pounded away as they ran, but Peggy only sniffed back tears.

“Thank you, my darling,” she whispered.

“Peggy?” His voice cracked and Peggy’s tears started to come down in earnest.

“I'm here, Steve.”

There was a sound like wind racing through an open window and Peggy realized that it was the plane rushing down to the ground. “I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

She swallowed a sob and made herself speak clearly. “Alright. A week, next Saturday. At the Stork Club.”

“You got it.”

“Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late!”

“You know, I still don't know how to dance.”

“I'll show you. Just be there, darling, please.”

The air picked up and Steve’s words were rushing by almost too fast to understand, but every word seared itself into her memory. “We'll have the band play somethin' slow. I love you and I'd hate to step on your—” his voice cut off in a hiss of static.

“Steve? Steve? Steve!” She toggled the microphone button, desperate to get the signal back. “Steve, answer me. Goddammit, Steve, please! Please answer. Please…” There was no use trying to speak. The sobs that shook her body filled her mouth with wet, salty tears, and there was no air in her lungs to keep talking. For the second time since the war started, Peggy Carter broke down and cried.

 

***

 

She was woken by a hand on her shoulder. She stood up, throwing her chair back and elbowing the person behind her in the stomach as she drew her gun. “Dugan?”

“I always forget that you need to be woken up gentle,” he moaned, rubbing at his stomach. “Hellofa way to start the night.”

Peggy put her gun away. “What do you want, Timothy?” She refused to acknowledge the knot in her throat that made her voice thick, but she reached for the handkerchief he offered anyway.

“They're looking for him, Peg. Jim gave the coordinates to Stark and they've got half a dozen planes scouring the Arctic. They found the Tesseract off the coast of Greenland, so they were able to trace a path and they have a good idea where he could have… landed.”

“Crashed, you mean.” Peggy scrubbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, wincing as the rough cloth made her eyes burn. “They'll do anything to recover Erskine’s serum.”

“That’s not the full reason and you know it,” Dugan said, his own eyes still red. “They're going to bring him back, Peggy. They'll find him.”

“That's not going to bring him back,” she said dully. “He’s dead.”

 

* * *

 

Even though it was packed, the camp was eerily quiet when she arrived. Peggy moved easily through the crowd surrounding the center commands’ tent, soldiers tugging each other out of the way as they recognized her. Phillips was at the head of the table, arguing with a man over the long range transmission radio. Charts and maps littered the table in the center, and when he caught sight of her, Phillips motioned for one of the men to get her a chair. Three were immediately offered, but Peggy waved them away to stand at the table.

“Stark and his team think he’s somewhere off the coast of Greenland but not yet at the Arctic Circle,” a bespectacled officer, Young, pointed to the spot on the map. “They're still sweeping the area, but Stark has been checking in and he thinks they'll find him tomorrow at the latest.”

“They need to hurry,” Kline said beside her. “Late August means the ice is melting and refreezing and if they don't find him soon…”

“We’d sooner find Amelia Earhart,” she said. Her words made the soldiers around her start to whisper, but a snap from Phillips’ fingers made them all fall silent.

“I realize that, _sir,”_ he growled, “but since we don't even have a body—” the other person interrupted him and he turned down the volume of the speaker instead, rolling his eyes.

Peggy walked up to his side. “Sir?”

“Damn bastards want Rogers paraded through the country like Lincoln and buried in a special exhibition at the capital.”

A dry snort came out of her. “I’m sure that's exactly what Steve would have wanted.”

“I've been trying to tell these asshats that for the last thirty—” he turned the speaker back on. “And I am telling you, _sir,_ the military respects the last wishes of its soldiers and Captain Rogers had very specific demands.” He turned the speaker higher so the voice shouting was loud enough for the entire tent to hear.

_“I don't care what Rogers wanted! He is the property of the US Government and as such his funeral will be performed following the orders of Senator—”_

Peggy had the radio receiver out of Phillips’ hand and to her mouth before the thought to move formed in her head. “Who is this?” she asked evenly.

_“This is Greggory Palt, head of public relations on the Captain America team. Who the hell are you?!”_

“That is none of your concern. None of this is. Captain Rogers requested to be buried in his hometown, and that is what will happen.”

_“Look, I don't know who you think you are—”_

“I am a soldier, something you clearly know less than nothing about, and I served with Captain Rogers. There is nothing to be argued here. When his body is found, Captain Steven Grant Rogers will be buried in a private ceremony in Brooklyn, next to his mother, and that is the end of that. If there are any problems with his decision, you can go fuck yourself.” She turned the radio off and walked to her tent, the cheers of the camp ringing behind her.

 

* * *

 

The end of the war was declared a week later, and the entire world—short the Axis countries— was celebrating. Peggy cheered along with the rest of the camp, but she didn't quite feel up to the party that followed the news.

Howard still hadn't found Steve. He wasn't giving up, however, and instead of romancing the female population of the base camp in victory, he was off with a team scrounging over tide flows and melting patterns, and flying over the next bit of Arctic ice he swore would be holding Steve.

Peggy, on the other hand… Peggy was standing in front of the heads of the camp, the SSR, and some fancy suits that had flowing in from other parts of the world. “Agent Carter?”

“Yes, Colonel Phillips?”

“What are your plans now that the war is over?”

It was a question Peggy had known was coming. She knew the Commandos were going to remain a unit, and that their team—lead by Dugan now—would continue to track down the Nazi and Hydra rats that had jumped their sinking ship (of course, Dugan’s words). They had offered Peggy a spot on their team, as she had been an honorary Howler and worked exceptionally well with her boys (again, Dugan’s words). Peggy also knew that her brother Michael had not made it through the war, and her parents were ready to welcome her at their family home in England. Hell, she could even to leave the SSR and find another occupation.

Now that the war was over, she was free to choose whatever she wanted. The only problem was that she had no idea what she want to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 09Nov2016- Hi you guys! Here is the second part to 'Peggy Carter is a Howling Commando.' I need to go through the chapters already written to make it fit with the first part of the series, written about two years after this was posted. I will let you know what parts have been revised in the author's notes; they'll be dated (because my inner science nerd needs the records). Lemme know what you think in the comments below!


	2. Peggy Carter is an American War-Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy decides to stay with the SSR. Phillips decides to give her some papers. Steve decides being dead doesn't mean he can't tell Peggy how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the immortal words of Howard Stark: "did you miss me?"
> 
> Yay! A chapter! Let's have another!
> 
> A/N: Revised 09 Nov 2016.

There was a simple choice, though, that would give her time to think about it.

“Sir, I would like to remain with the SSR, if possible. I am first and foremost a code breaker, and I think a job would not be out of the question.”

Phillips nodded as the rest of the board made notes. “I wouldn't expect any less, Agent, and because you've been with us since the beginning, you may choose your base of operations. I know the London branch is going to take some time to rebuild, but—”

“With all due respect, sir, I would like to be transferred to the New York office.”

The pencils stopped scratching over their papers, but Phillips only nodded again. “I would ask you if you're sure, but I know you wouldn't have said anything if you weren't. Just be aware that you will be the only member in that office that will have served in this part of the theater.” His eyebrow raised up, silently asking her if she was still sure, but Peggy had no qualms about it. 

“I understand, sir.”

They negotiated her pay and role, and once all of the logistics were out of the way, Peggy was ready to be dismissed when Phillips stood up and walked over to stack of packs in a corner of the tent. “Before you go, Carter.”

“Sir?”

He pressed the topmost pack into her arms. The embossed ‘Rogers, S’ made her breath catch in in her throat. “His personal effects.”

“What?”

“After Barnes’ death, Rogers revised his last will and testament. He left this for you.”

She forced herself to keep calm. “Thank you, sir.”

“He also set up this.” Phillips handed her an envelope, motioning for her to read the contents. “Any questions?”

“I don't…” Her eyes skimmed the papers again. “I don't understand. These are—”

“Rogers listed you as his next of kin and beneficiary for his life insurance policy.”

Her jaw dropped. “Those are widows benefits, sir. We weren't—”

“Just go with it, Carter. Some strings deserved to be pulled.” He gave her a grim smile. “Don't be a stranger. Now get out of my sight.”

“Goodbye, sir.”

She managed to make it all the way to her tent before she tore open Steve’s pack. His neatly rolled clothes were at the top, and she gave in to her need to bury her face in the soft cotton of his shirts. They still smelled like him, and she let a few tears trickle down into the fabric. When she was a little more composed, Peggy started sorting through the rest of his things. His beat up copy of  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ was set tenderly next to his clothes, and his grooming kit followed. She pulled out his mess kit, the small bird Jones had carved for him one evening, a deck of playing cards he'd won off an unsuspecting private… Peggy smiled at the pinup Barnes had jokingly gifted Steve one Christmas, saying it looked a bit like Peggy. She remembered how red Steve had gotten, but he'd still kept the picture, and it made her smile. There was a handful of cigarettes he stashed to trade for sweets whenever the opportunity presented itself— _ ‘after not being able to breathe most of my life, I can’t get used to these,’ _ he'd complained once _ ;  _ a C-ration; a really sparkly rock he'd found in the middle of a raid and James had nearly killed him when he learned of it later— _ ‘you stupid lug, turning into a magpie when Nazis are shooting for your head, you crazy fucker, your mother is turning in her grave’;  _ a couple of drawing pencils… 

She lost herself in his sketchbooks for hours, fingers tracing over the lines he'd made by the side of countless campfires, at the mess, in his bunk, outside his tent, on plane rides… He'd drawn James a lot. All of the Howlers were featured in the pages, along with landscapes and detailed sketches of flowers and insects and animals. But many, many pages of his sketchbook were dedicated to Peggy. He had drawn her form in countless ways over the years: in uniform, directing agents; relaxing by the campfire; shooting at Hydra agents; sleeping wherever exhaustion caught up with her. There were cartoons of her strangling Howard Stark, and being knighted by the King, and leading soldiers into battle. There were also much more intimate drawings: the few times he'd seen her undress; several pin ups of her, vastly improved on Barnes' original; the various ways he had imagined her naked; the multiple ways he’d dreamt of her and him entwined in the embrace man and woman had perfected throughout time. There were some drawings that made her blush, and she hadn't been a virgin since 1936. Those were the drawings that made her stop and imagine what would have happened if Steve hadn't forced the Valkyrie down. When the first teardrop fell, she put the sketchbooks aside and leafed through the papers Phillips had given her.

The first paper was an official document detailing that all of Steve’s possessions be placed in the care of his wife, Margaret Elizabeth Rogers nee Carter. That made her drop the entire file and only the miracle of wartime reflexes saved them from falling in a puddle of mud. She brought the lamp closer to the paper, trying to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. Steve had listed her as his… wife. 

_ Wife.  _

It wasn’t in a private memo, or a letter, but an actual binding legal document. She could see the name very, very clearly, in thick black ink on a notarized document, signed and stamped.  _ Margaret Elizabeth Rogers.  _ “What the hell?” she whispered.

Peggy put the paper aside and reached for the next one in the stack. She had no idea how he'd had done it, but Steve had managed to get his KIA benefits signed over to her. Peggy had a healthy salary from her work with the SSR; she was hardly Howard Stark, but she wasn’t likely to go hungry anytime soon, either. The amount of money to be transferred to her made her jaw drop, and she had to take step outside of the tent for several moments to compose herself. After a few deep breaths and raiding Dugan’s pack for his bourbon, she put herself back together enough to keep reading. 

The third paper declared she had sole control over where he was entombed. Despite the shock and confusion, she permitted herself a mental two-finger salute aimed at Gregory Palt.

There were more papers in the envelope. Copies of all the pertinent forms were present, as well as a forged marriage certificate, for proof. Forged, because that was her signature on the paper and she definitely had no recollection of her supposed wedding. Attached to the paper was a small golden band, with a tag reading ‘H.S.’ tied to it. She made a note to shoot Howard the next time she saw him. 

Last of all were a couple of envelopes. Both were in Steve’s smooth, precise handwriting. One was addressed to  _ Mrs. Winifred Barnes _ . The other was addressed to her.

With shaky fingers, she opened the envelope and pulled out sheafs of paper and another envelope, this one simply labelled  _ Ma  _ in Barnes’ tidy scrawl. Setting the envelope aside, she unfolded her letter and started reading.

 

_ My dearest Peggy, _

_ I feel like it's too much and not enough to start off your letter like this, since at this moment I am seated across the fire from you and you're arguing with Dernier in French about the best dispersal method for cherry bombs, and you have no idea I'm sitting here. Well, you do, because you just drew me into the argument, but you don't really notice me. That's why I feel like it's presumptuous of me to call you mine, although I really wish you were. Not that you belong to anybody, because you are your own person and this is 1944, not the Middle Ages. _

_ Even in writing I'm still horrible at talking to women. I should start again, but since you're used to my ramblings I should just plow on. I love you, Peggy, and I've made my feelings for you as clear as mud. Hopefully you don't hold it against me, because if you ever read these words, it's because I’m dead. _

_ Please be glad for me that I died doing what was right, and helping to make a better world for everybody. I got to meet great people, live my days out with my best friend, and I got to love you. All in all, quite fun, but the European theater gets a negative review for being too cold and being the place where I died. Don't cry for me, although I know you won't because you're strong and brave and take the entire concept of ‘stiff upper lip’ too seriously. I hope I went out fighting, and not from getting run over by a tank or something equally ridiculous. I hope I got to see the end of the war. I know we win, right? _

_ I should probably stop stalling and go back to the part where I told you I love you, because I know you're just about to raise your eyebrow the way you do before you pull out your gun. Please don’t shoot me. Or my letter.  _

_ Bucky will tell me to grow a pair and tell you now how I feel—he's been telling me since you wore that red dress to the pub, when we first formed the Commandos. But I don't tell you for two reasons; the first is because I don't know how you feel. This isn't to guilt you into saying something or feeling something you don't really want. Buck says you like me, and he's usually pretty good at reading women. He also got a venereal when he visited Jersey for a job interview, so I'll leave it up to you to decide how you feel. Just know that I love you, and we can leave it at that. _

_ The second reason I haven't declared myself to you is that we’re at war. We are constantly fighting people with guns and bombs and cyanide teeth, and it takes a lot of work to fight them. I have it easy; I just bash heads in. You coordinate attacks and break codes and control everything we do on the ground to keep us safe, in addition to joining up on missions from time to time. Part of your job is maintaining your decorum, and the position demands a cool head and nerves of steel, and a relationship with Captain America would probably do more harm than good to your reputation. I know you're capable as a woman and as an agent, but I also know there are people that are supposed to be on our side who will do anything to tear you down. I don't want to give them something to hurt you with. Besides, what can we do? I can hardly take my best girl out on a date when the town’s been bombed and masked ruffians are aiming for our heads. You deserve better than that. Much better.  _

_ You deserve the world. _

_ That's why I don't want to do anything now. I figure, once the war ends, we can go out dancing and figure it out together, if you'll have me. Although I will still need you to teach me how to dance… I'd hate to step on your toes. _

_ I hope you can forgive me for taking the coward’s way out and writing you a death letter instead of saying this face-to-face, assuming I haven't done so between now and when you read this. Just know, regardless, that I do love you with all my heart. _

_ Forever yours,  _

_ Steve  _

 

Blinded with tears, Peggy moved on to the next set of papers, which seemed to be a follow-up letter.

 

_ My dearest Peggy, _

_ I still have no better mode of addressing you, but it is the best for a reason. I love you.  _

_ I never told you why I love you, and after what happened with Bucky, I don't want there to be any doubt of it.  _

_ I love you, and you're my hero, Peg. My first impression of you involved your fist slamming an asshole's face to the ground, and I think it was love at first sight. You don't take anything lying down; you know what you want and you go for it. You know what it was like to pay your dues and work your way up to where you are now, and it takes my breath away. You always treated me like a person, even when I'm being a ‘punk-ass shit’ and it is going to sound cliche, but it's that kindness and heart that made me fall more in love with you as we got to know each other. You're strong and you're smart and you're beautiful, and no matter what happened to me I want you to know that I died loving you for all of these reasons. You inspire me to be a better person, and keep hope, and there's hardly a day that goes by that I don't think of you. I also want to kiss you everytime I see you, but we don’t always have a chance. _

_ I got to make a difference with my death, I hope. I know you wouldn't have let me go any other way.  _

_ I love you, and I fantasize about the end of the war. I know we will win, so I keep imagining that at the end of all this finally going dancing. I dream of taking you out the way you deserve, instead of necking like teenagers whenever the Holwers can spare us some privacy. We never talk about us, and I know it’s to maintain this illusion that if we don’t think about either of us dying, we won’t. But my absolute greatest fear is to lose you—you can’t die, Peg, I won’t let you, not with my serum in your veins; I want us to be together. I want us to define what we have. I want us to get to know each other outside the context of war, and maybe, if you feel the way I do, asking if you'd let me marry you. Since I'm dead, I took a bit of a chance and set something up with Phillips. Please don't hate me. He's probably already given you all the widow's papers; I'm leaving this letter with him. I'm also thinking of enclosing Bucky's last letter to his mother. I hope, if it's not too much trouble, than you can make sure she gets it.  _

_ I love you, and I hope you're not furious with me pretending we did get married. Call it my dying wish. Howard did me a favor when I told him of changing my will. He said the Army probably wouldn't honor any of the requests because there was no recognized relationship between us, so he got his butler to doctor up a marriage certificate and file it in New York. Also, if you ever want to live there, this can guarantee you're not deported. I don't know if you will ever need any of this, since I know you make more than enough on your own and an SSR agent won't be forced out of the country, but I couldn't stand knowing there was something I could do for you without doing it. _

_ I love you, and if you don't know by now, Howard also bought a ring. Your size, he claims, and I think he knows more about women's jewelry than you and me combined, so I believe him. It's for you; I would have given you my mother's ring, but  _ _ Mama Winnie _ _ Mrs. Barnes has it. If you want it, just show her this letter and I know she'll give it to you.  _

_ I love you. You know I call you my best girl; the Howlers enjoy teasing me about it ever since it first slipped out. Dead men tell no tales, so I should admit the truth; the truth is that you are my best girl, my only girl, and in my head I call you that, and sweetheart, and love, and dearest. The only thing I don't call you is Margaret, and that is because I know better.  _

_ I love you, and speaking of names reminds me that although my mother baptized me as Steven Grant, she believed in the power of names. Call is Irish superstition, but Buck has called me punk since the moment we met; Mrs. Barnes is the only one who can get away with calling me Stevie, and sometimes Rebecca; Ma used to call me  _ astorín _ when I was sick. But you call me  _ darling _ , and that's the name I love best, because that means I'm yours. And I am.  _

_ I love you, Peggy, and I know writing it again and again won't make up for me being gone, but I just want you to know that that I do love you, and my biggest regret will be never having a chance to tell you.  _

_ Tá grá agam duit,  _

_ Steve _

 

Peggy read through Steve's letters again and again, and she cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who else is going to be watching the two-hour premiere? If anyone's into live-tweeting, I'm @TheMrdsDaughter on Twitter (the name is 'I Ship It' because reasons). We can freak out together ;)
> 
> A/N: Revised 09 Nov 2016.


	3. From Carter to Rogers to Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone ever wonder how close Steve was with the Barnes family? Let's see.
> 
> A/N: Revised 09 Nov 2016.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last bit of groundwork before we really take off!
> 
> A/N: Revised 09 Nov 2016.

“Brooklyn, please,” Peggy said as she stepped into the cab. “14039 Brooklyn Street.” As the car made its way across New York City, Peggy played with the ring on her finger. The war had ended, but it had taken a couple of months for Peggy to get everything straightened out with the SSR. She’d decided to keep quiet about the Steve’s actions. Steve was still missing; Howard was still searching; Phillips had given Peggy Bucky's kit when she flew to New York. She'd wanted to give it to Mrs. Barnes herself, along with Bucky's letter.

The New York field office had given her a start date, but working at a secret government facility made it hard to find an apartment. She figured she could live out of a hotel for a few months if necessary; it's not like she couldn't afford it.

The cabbie was quick, and before she knew it she was at Winifred Barnes' home. He helpfully pulled her trunk up to the door, and left Peggy fiddling with her ring. But Mother did not raise her children to be cowards, so Peggy brushed her hair back and knocked on the door.

A small young woman, barely out of girlhood, answered the door. She had large eyes and dark brown hair, and her hands were clenched around the doorknob. “Can I help you?” she asked, her Brooklyn accent barely detectable.

“Hello, my name is Margaret Carter. I—” Peggy was cut off by the woman launching herself at her, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. She controlled herself enough not to react, but the strange woman did not.

“Oh Lord, you're Peggy,” she cried. “Oh my—Ma! _Mama!_ Oh, please come in, please, Miss Peggy. _Ma!”_

A woman raced to the entry, a panicked look on her face. “Becca, what in the name of—”

“Ma, this is Peggy. Steve's Peggy.:

The woman Peggy realized was Mrs. Barnes clasped her hands to her chest. “Dear Lord in Heaven. Miss Carter…”

In the blink of an eye Peggy found herself seated at a worn, warm kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her and her trunk beside her chair. “Mrs. Barnes—”

“Winifred, please, or Winnie. This is my daughter, Rebecca. I'm afraid you took us by surprise, Miss Carter.”

“Peggy, please. I didn't mean to surprise you. To be completely honest, I didn't think you would know who I was when I knocked.”

“Of course we do,” Rebecca said, picking up a box from near the radio in the sitting room and setting it on the table. She pulled several thick stacks of letters from it. “We got regular letters—well, semi-regular—from Bucky and Steve. Both of them absolutely raved about you. Steve especially.”

“I had no idea,” Peggy said quietly. The knowing looks on both women's faces made her fight a blush. “I came by to... You know about Steve, yes?” she asked, as tactfully as possible. “And James?”

Mrs. Barnes nodded. “We got the telegrams. We... They told us what happened.”

“I'm so sorry for your loss,” Peggy said, digging her nails into the palm of her hands to keep from tearing up. “For both of them.”

“My boys... I know it's not possible for every soldier to make it home, but I wonder what plans God had for my boys if He had to take them both.”

“They died as heroes,” Peggy said, not unkindly. The words came out rehearsed, likely because she still said the words to herself before going to bed each night. “James and Steve... They worked with a special team—”

“The Howling Commandos,” Rebecca interrupted her. “We know. Bucky and Steve were horrible at keeping secrets; we might not know all the details, but we know Steve was Captain America.”

Peggy took a deep breath and nodded. “We couldn't have won the war without them; Steve died taking down a leader of the Nazis and James... He saved Steve's life, and without him, we would never have known where to look for Schmidt. They died true heroes.”

Mrs. Barnes reached for her handkerchief. “I know. Those two wouldn't have done anything less.”

“Steve loved you, you know,” Rebecca said suddenly.

Peggy pressed down on her ring. “I know.”

“Were you…” Rebecca had to steel herself to continue. “Is there anything we can bury?”

Peggy shook her head. “James was lost and Steve... They're still trying to look for him, but I don't think they're going to find him.”

“We can always keep hope,” Mrs. Barnes said softly. She shook her head and pushed the coffee closer to Peggy. “Drink, my dear. My boys always complained that decent wartime coffee was a figment of the imagination. Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, thank you.” Peggy reached down and popped her trunk open. “I only came by to give you this.” She pulled Bucky's pack out and set it on the table. The letters followed.

“My Lord…” Mrs. Barnes traced the ink on the envelopes and let her tears fall. Rebecca wasn't far behind, but she pulled the flap open and pulled out the letter. Peggy made to leave, but Mrs. Barnes gently pulled her back down. “Please stay.”

“I will.”

Rebecca stood behind her mother's chair and started reading. _“Dear Ma and Becca, if you're reading this letter, it means that I am gone, and I am really, really sorry to put you through this. Hopefully Steve can help, he's always been good at pushing through…”_

The three women cried over Bucky's letter, and when Rebecca reached for Steve's, Peggy stopped her.

“Please, I can't... I already have his goodbyes. I can't…”

Rebecca understood, and she and her mother read Steve's letter silently, amidst heartbreaking sobs. Peggy kept her gaze resolutely fixed on the table, but her ring never stilled on her finger. Mrs. Barnes' eyes caught sight of the movement and she left the kitchen, returning a minute later with a small silk bag, faded with age.

She pressed it into Peggy's hands. “This is for you, my dear.”

Peggy pulled the drawstrings of the bag open and tipped it over on her palm. A silver band fell out, and Peggy swallowed a gasp. The ring was indeed silver, but there was a diamond heart set on the band, cradled by two finely wrought hands with a tiny crown atop the gem. “This was Sarah's ring. It belonged Joseph's mother's, Colleen, I think her name was, back in the old country. This is a claddagh ring.” She slipped the ring into Peggy's left ring finger, making the crown point away from her. “This is how you wear it, Peggy. Now you're an honest woman.”

Peggy ran her thumb over the stone, but she quickly pulled it off. “Mrs. Barnes, I can't. Steve and I weren't married. We weren't even engaged. I— He— I only kissed him before he…”

“Winifred, my dear, and yes, I know. Stevie made it very clear in his letter. We Irish are a passionate bunch and our Steve showed it. He explained about the papers and the fake certificate. I know my boys, though, and I know he would have wanted you to have this.”

Peggy rubbed the ring a couple of times before pressing a kiss to it and slipping it back on. “For Steve.”

“For Steve.”

The women slowly slipped into tales and memories of Bucky and Steve, and Peggy filled them in with the happiest stories she could remember from her times with the boys. Before she knew it, it was dark and Mrs. Barnes wouldn't hear about letting Peggy go off to her hotel.

“It's too late for you to go wandering out in the city,” she scolded.

Peggy argued that she had just come home from serving the European theater for three years, but her protests were overruled. “No daughter of mine will be staying at a hotel. You're family now, Peggy. We adopted Steve, so don't think we're above adopting you.”

No matter how much Peggy wanted to resist, her half-hearted arguments were declared void and she was set up in Rebecca's room. Sleep didn't come any quicker than usual, but the transition was easy for the first time in weeks.

***

The next morning found Peggy awake early, and by nightfall she finally won out on why she couldn't say at the Barnes' apartment. Rebecca ended up inadvertently being the hero of the day; she worked at the metalworking plant, and her office's secretary's friend's cousin was looking for a roommate. “She just needs someone to help with the rent. She's a welder at the plant. I'm sure she would like to meet you.”

The meeting was a success, although to be honest, Peggy was sold the moment she learned the woman was named Colleen. If Peggy were the kind of person to believe in signs, she would have been content.

 

* * *

 

Peggy's luck seemed to run out by the time she reached the end of her first day at the office. She angrily slammed cupboard doors and drawers as she set about making dinner. Colleen was getting ready to leave for work, quite pleased with her night shifts, and she looked warily at Peggy. “Peg, you ok?”

“I'm absolutely fine,” she muttered, turning on the stove.

“My brother was the same kind of fine just before he got shipped to Guadalcanal. Talk to me before you set the place on fire.”

Peggy threw herself in a chair and let out an uncharacteristic groan. “I worked with soldiers during the war. I made a difference; I saw combat; I did something important.” Colleen nodded, unsurprised as Peggy had told her she'd been ATF. “Now I work at the phone company as a bloody secretary! They want me fetching coffee and filing papers and— and— and _typing!”_

“Oh, Peggy…” Colleen gave her a hug. “Men are useless chauvinist pigs. The only thing we can hope is to meet one of the few decent ones left.”

“I did.” The words were out of Peggy’s mouth before she could stop them.

“Already? Your first day, Peg, good job! Is he cute?”

“I meant, I already found one.” Peggy reached down her shirt and tugged on a thin gold chain. Mrs. Barnes had gifted it to her, and on it she'd threaded Sarah's ring and her own.

“Peggy, you’re married?”

She shook her head, suddenly too tired to explain the charade. “He died just before the war ended. He... I loved him, Colleen.” The words made her stop, but Colleen didn’t seem to realize that it was the first time she'd said she loved Steve aloud.

“And here I am making jokes about men. I'm sorry, Peggy. You must miss your Mr. Carter.”

Peggy tried to keep her heart from beating out of her chest, still savoring the taste of the word ‘love’ on her lips. “Rogers. I kept my name for the war, I was... We worked together.”

“It would have been kind of hard to have two Rogers in the field.” Peggy didn't bother to correct her and explain the truth. “Peggy Rogers, though... that sounds nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters! Yay! Let's see if I can squeeze in one more today.


	4. The Reports of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy meets Jarvis. She also meets Steve again, who decided that being dead was not for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was long enough I had to split it in two.

Steve had been gone three and a half months when Peggy received a phone call. At work. "Miss Carter? My name is Edwin Jarvis. I work for Howard Stark."

"I guess that explains how you found this number," she said. Making sure that no one in the office was paying attention to her—a given, unless she had their lunch orders ready—she turned back the phone. "Hello Mr. Jarvis. Is there any way this communication can wait until later tonight?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Carter. Mr. Stark is adamant."

"And what does Howard want now?" 

"Miss Carter, I need you to remain calm. Do not let anyone know what I am about to tell you. I'm afraid it's a bit of a shock, and it must be kept top secret. Not even your superiors know yet, and I'm afraid if Mr. Stark didn't tell you, no one would inform you."

"Mr. Jarvis, short of you about to tell me that Howard Stark got married or blew up the moon, I'm certain there's nothing you can say that will surprise me."

"They found Captain Rogers."

Peggy forced herself to keep still. "You're lying."

"I'm not, Miss Carter. Mr. Stark found the Valkyrie roughly 500 miles from Ittoq—Ittoqqor—it's relatively close to Iceland. They found him and are flying him to London."

"His body, you mean." She kept her voice quiet, but her hand reached for the rings under her shirt. She stopped herself from pulling the chain free, but her fingers still pressed against the rings through her blouse.. 

"His body," Jarvis agreed, "but he's going home to you, Miss Carter."

"I don't know what Howard told you—"

"I'm the one that forged your wedding certificate,  _ Mrs. Rogers _ . I understand your circumstances."

Peggy forced her voice to stay even. "Thank you for your actions, Mr. Jarvis. May I ask why Howard is not the one calling me?"

"He is piloting the plane retrieving Captain Rogers. He suggests that you arrive here as quickly as possible."

"I'm afraid that may be a bit difficult at the moment, as it's still my first month working here."

"You could tell them once the matter is resolved. Does the SSR not know—"

"I did not wish to inform them," she hissed, barely audible, "that I was 'married' to Steve."

"But they must allow you to bury him!" he gasped. 

"I'm afraid that would only give them an excuse to transfer me out of here. Besides, if you're calling me in secret, I think it's probably best not to tell them why I need to fly across the Atlantic ASAP."

"Then how will you get to London?" Jarvis asked, completely baffled. 

"Leave that to me, Mr. Jarvis." She hung up and dialed a number she knew by heart. "Timothy? It's me. I need you to do me a favor... No, no, I'm fine. I promise to tell you everything later, but I need you to do something for me, please..."

An hour later, as she was passing out sandwiches to everyone on the floor, Chief Wosser stuck his head out of his office. "Carter!"

"Yes, sir?" she asked. The man she'd mentally named 'Chief Tosser' lived up to his nickname, and now he looked like he was having a difficult bowel movement. 

"You've been requested," he all but spat. He hadn't kept his opinion to himself about being 'saddled with a woman,' and he spent most of his work day complaining about her work habits and the delicacy of her sex while she pumped out twice as much work as many of her coworkers and of much higher quality. Thankfully, the men commiserated with her, because he hated everyone else with as much passion and rumor had it that he was going to be replaced soon. 

"Requested by whom, sir?"

"Don't ask stupid questions. Get your empty head to London. There is a mission for you."

Peggy didn't bother to go back to her room. She called the building from the airport and left a message for Colleen, telling her that her brother Michael had taken ill and she was going to visit him for a week. Go-bag in hand, she flew to England and hit the ground running. Her rings had ended up on her finger somewhere along the way, and a tall man holding a sign reading 'Mrs. Rogers' made note of them. 

"It was Mr. Stark's idea," he apologized. "Miss Carter, I'm Edwin Jarvis."

"Pleasure," she said perfunctorily. "I'm sorry you got stuck picking me up."

"Not at all," he said as he drove them out to the city. "It's actually quite a treat. Mr. Stark has been in quite a state and it can be… refreshing to slip away."

"I know the feeling," she said. The city had been deeply damaged by the bombing during the war, by London was strong and recovering. It made her glad to see her birthplace again. "What has got Howard upset anyway? If Steve's been found..."

"I'm afraid I don't know. He had been very secretive, but I've been his butler long enough to know that something has upset him."

"To be completely fair, Mr. Jarvis, Howard keeps his emotions on his sleeve."

"That is also very true."

The guards at the London SSR office were adamant that Peggy not enter the building. She flashed them her credentials and if she wasn’t in such a state of shock, she would’ve been amused at how white they turned at her identity. “I see your reputation precedes you,” Jarvis muttered as the guards apologized and waved her through. 

Her jaw dropped when she stepped inside. "Colonel Phillips?"

"Carter? Should have known Stark wouldn't have been able to keep his trap shut."

A small part of Peggy, the part that kept insisting everything was a dream, vanished, and her heart started pounding so loud she could practically hear it. If Phillips was here, that meant… "Colonel, is it true? Did you find him?"

"We found something, alright. Jarvis, get Stark. I'll take her to Rogers."

As Jarvis sprinted away, Peggy jogged to keep up with Phillips as he stormed down a corridor. "So it  _ is _ true."

"Yes." He led them into a busy office overlooking a giant metal slab. Atop it was large block of ice. Phillips threw everyone out and locked the door behind them, drawing a curtain over the door's glass pane. He opened a metal cabinet and pulled something out.

Peggy felt her jaw drop again as he pressed Steve's shield into her hands. Her arms wrapped tight around it, pressing it to her chest as she struggled to keep breathing. "No matter what happens, I think this is best placed with you," he said gruffly. 

She made her numb tongue work with her stiff lips, forcing the words out. "What do you mean, no matter what happens?"

There was a pounding at the door and Phillips opened it, letting Howard spill in. "Peg! Good, you're here. How can you lift that thing anyway? It's heavy!"

"You built it, Howard. You also know that all of the Howlers took care of his shield at least once during the war." She wiped at her face and hooked her arm through the straps. "Can I see him?"

"Peg, before you see him, there's something I should tell you."

"What?"

"I don't think Steve's dead."

Peggy felt the blood rush out of her body, and all she felt was cold. "Howard, you have ten seconds before I bash your head in."

He took a step forward. "I'm not making a joke, Peggy! When we found him, he was in that block of ice. We chipped it free and started defrosting him on the way back. As we were peeling the ice away from his face, there was a melted patch around his nose. We checked, and there was a really, really faint pulse."

"Howard..."

"Peggy, I think he's still alive."

"Take me to him," she whispered. "Now."

Howard took them down to the examination room, and Peggy’s knees buckled. For the first time in her life, Peggy felt that she was going to faint, and only the men’s sudden hold on her shoulders kept her on her feet. 

It was him. Steve was there. They'd found him. She knew that Howard and Phillips couldn't have been lying to her, but to see his body, within arms reach, was almost more than she could bear. He was spread eagle, his head tilted back as in slumber. It was strange to see him unconscious without his mouth wide open, quiet snores starting from deep within his chest and spilling over his lips. She fought the urge to touch him, but it was a close call. They had freed Steve's face and his body from the waist down, but the ice was still there around his chest and arms. 

"We're doing it in batches. We don't know..." Howard licked his lips and fisted his hands in his hair. "We think he's still alive, but we don't know if he's going to wake up. Your heart can keep beating when your brain is dead, you know that, right? But Erskine's serum... He has advanced healing properties. We don't... I don't know what's going on. I don't know if the ice is what's keeping him alive, because he's  _ still _ alive three months after going down and the human body isn't supposed to survive that long without food and water and we have no idea what the oxygen deprivation did to his mind..." Howard kept prattling on, Phillips chiming in occasionally, but Peggy couldn't hear them anymore. 

She reached over and traced lightly over his face. He was cold, ice cold, and she shivered on his behalf. Howard seemed to interpret her shiver as something else, and he stopped talking. "I'm gonna... Why don't we give you sometime alone?"

He and Phillips left as quietly as possible, but Peggy hardly cared. She felt softly at Steve's neck, wondering if—

There was a soft swell of pressure against her fingers, then very, very softly, she felt it again. And again. And again. "Steve?"

There was no answer, obviously, but Peggy cried anyway. "Steve, my darling, it's me. It's Peggy." She pressed her lips to his, crying harder at the cold, unmoving flesh. "It's your Peggy, I'm here."

She didn't know how long she cried. Peggy ended up throwing herself over his body at some point, and the melted water seeped into her, freezing her through. She paused when she couldn't feel her chest moving anymore, and changed into a dry uniform she found in the adjoining locker room. Howard and Phillips weren't back yet, but she was glad, because the idea that popped into her head would have made them lock her up.

Peggy settled the shield properly on her arm and aimed at a corner of the ice on Steve's chest. She brought it down with as much force as she could muster, and she cried out as the leather straps bit hard enough into her arms to guarantee bruises. A small piece of ice gave way under the vibranium. She pushed it away, and attacked the block again. Hysteria freed itself from where she’d stuck it in her mind, and she slammed the shield against the block like a fury. The repetitive process was tedious, and it  _ hurt  _ every time she slammed the shield into the ice, but Peggy worked through it, desperate to get Steve free. He was close, so close, if only she could get him out… 

The frantic attack lasted ages, and it seemed impossible to get all of the ice off, but she did it. Peggy threw the shield down and moved on to peeling off Steve's uniform. The cloth was still frozen solid, but Peggy had helped strip Steve on more than one occasion during the war, so she knew most of his tricks. She had him down to his underpants and was drying him off with some towels she'd found in the locker room when Howard came in again.

"Peggy, how are you—what are you doing?!"

"He's cold, Howard.” If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve had trouble recognizing the voice as hers. She simply rubbed harder at Steve. “I know he might not feel it, but I couldn't leave him like that."

"How did you get all of the ice off?"

She nodded to the shield.

"Of course you did. And now you're stripping him."

"Make yourself useful and find some clothes, Howard."

"The doctors are gonna want to look at him."

"I know."

The doctors arrived at the same time Howard did, and they flocked around Steve. Blood pressure cuffs and stethoscopes and syringes came at him, trying to get as many samples as possible, and Peggy fought the latter off. "You don't get his blood. Steve already gave enough, and one sample is enough to run all of your tests. If you want more, you'll need to ask him for permission, because you won't get any from me."

"And who are you?" One of the doctors scoffed. 

She took his syringe and threw it in the wastebasket. "I'm his wife."

"Captain Rogers wasn't married."

Peggy shoved her hand in his face. "Try again."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Rogers. I didn't know."

"Agent Carter. Just bring him back, please."

"I... We'll try."

They ran test after test, but nothing they found helped. "He's in a coma, basically," Howard said. They moved Steve to a private room and Peggy had settled herself next to his bed. "There's no obvious brain damage. His heart is working slow and his breathing isn't as strong as we'd like, but it's nothing like before the serum. He's still Captain America."

"He's still Steve," she corrected. 

"Still Steve." He took a look at the charts again and sighed. "We can't tell what was keeping him alive, but now that he's warming up, I hope his body will figure out that he's not in danger anymore and let him come back. I'll get Jarvis to bring you some food. Something tells me you're not going to leave his side anytime soon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a cliffhanger, I swear! But your comments would be greatly appreciated. Thanks, all of you who already left kudos!


	5. Would You Lay With Me and Just Forget the World?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Steve are basically Selene and Endymion.

_ "Still Steve." He took a look at the charts again and sighed. "We can't tell what was keeping him alive, but now that he's warming up, I hope his body will figure out that he's not in danger anymore and let him come back. I'll get Jarvis to bring you some food. Something tells me you're not going to leave his side anytime soon." _

 

She didn’t. Under normal circumstances, Peggy would have rather been killed than let anyone see her as anything less than a professional agent. However, this case was as far away from normal as it could get, so she didn't give a damn that the doctors and agents in the facility knew she was waiting at Steve's bedside, still pretending to be his wife. Howard and Phillips managed to convince the staff that their marriage had been hushed up for security reasons, and they were sworn to secrecy on that matter as quickly as they were that Steve wasn't as dead as the world believed. 

The world got a little smaller a few days later, when, as Peggy was reading to Steve from the newspaper, all of the Howling Commandos filed into the room.

"My god, Peg." She whiled around and saw Dugan standing at the doorway. "You promised to tell me later but I never thought..." Everyone trailed after him and there was a mixture of crying, cursing, and money changing hands as the Howlers saw their fearless leader. 

"They don't know if he's going to wake up," she explained. 

"When," Jones corrected her. "He always comes back for another round."

"Barnes always said Rogers was too stupid to quit, so you know he's gotta come back," Morita continued. 

"That's because he's got you to come back to," Dugan said. 

"Speaking of," Morita continued. "When the hell did you get married?"

The room burst into cheers and cries of disbelief as eyes landed on her rings, and even more money changed hands. "Quiet, you apes!" Peggy shouted. "Swear to secrecy."

"Swear!" they chimed. 

"We're not really married. Steve set it up in his will. It lets me have power of attorney, at the least."

"Good," Jones said. "Cap was always worried that someone would try to make another Red Skull with his serum."

"Not that he didn't love you," Falsworth said quickly. "He did. Does. He's just always been shit at expressing his feelings."

"You should have heard him, sometimes. Barnes would provoke him, saying that if Rogers didn't get his act together he was gonna ask you to dance instead." Jones shook his head and sighed. "Still the best fight I've seen in years."

"Idiots," she laughed. "Trust me, if they had done that in front of me I would've shot all of you, shield or no shield."

The Howlers, who knew that story very well, just laughed. 

Dugan agreed to make her excuses with 'Chief Tosser' and when the team left a couple of days later, Peggy was back to quietly waiting for Steve to wake up. 

***

Peggy waved goodnight to the doctor as he left the room, and she closed the blinds after him. She slipped into a pair of Steve's old sweatpants, rolled up so they didn't dwarf her too badly, and one of his training shirts, and pulled back the covers on his bed. The boys had brought Steve and Barnes’ trunks and left them behind after their visit; they’d filled them will all sorts of food and sweets and books they thought Steve would enjoy once be woke up, as well as a couple of gag gifts for his 'wedding life' that made even Peggy turn a bit pink. By some miracle they had found some of Steve's old clothes and included them, along with some shoes and toiletries. The doctors, who still didn't know she was pretending to be his wife, had taken pity on her and suggested that she sleep with him at night. She had refused, citing propriety, but they waved her worries away. "Smell," they'd explained, "was a powerful trigger for memories." They thought that maybe having her touch and smell near him would make it easier for Steve to wake up. 

She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but after sleeping in a chair for a week, Peggy was relieved to lay down to rest. Her pajamas were for her own benefit. 

The bed they'd found for Steve was big, and even with him in the middle there was more than enough room for Peggy to sleep comfortably. She was slightly overwhelmed sleeping next to Steve, since she'd barely kissed the man before he went into the ice, but it was a feeling she quickly grew accustomed to. Steve was very large, but he was also very warm, didn't move and didn't seem to mind that Peggy curled around him in her sleep and woke up wound around him like an octopus. She would deny it to her dying day, but Peggy liked to cuddle. 

Sleeping wasn't the only thing Peggy found herself doing at night. She developed a habit of talking to Steve, tilting his head so it would rest on top of hers, or on her chest, and she would twine her fingers through his. She talked about her childhood, told him stories and recounted some of her earlier missions she hadn't had a chance to tell him about before. She talked about the men at the office, great agents but assholes in every other respect. She told him about meeting Winifred and Rebecca, and about the childhood stories they'd told her about him and Bucky growing up. She also sang to him, out of tune and very badly, but he never complained. 

He never did much of anything, to be honest, and Peggy had started to grow accustomed to that. She had also grown accustomed to the beard he was starting to grow in his sleep, and tonight found her stroking it as she laid down. "Howard keeps offering to shave you. I hope you don't mind me telling him no. You're actually quite handsome like this, soldier. Not that many people would recognize you with this on, I bet. Although if you were awake, I think you would complain about it itching. You always went clean shaven during the war." She worked her way up to his mustache. "The mustache, though... Maybe once it grows in all the way." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "It's a bit prickly, my dear, and I'm not kissing you until it's grown out properly."

Peggy sighed and made sure her hair scarf was on tightly for the night before turning out the light and siding up next to him. "Goodnight, my darling. I love you." She threw her leg over his hip and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her face was pressed against his chest, and let herself be lulled to sleep to the strong, steady beat of his heart. 

 

* * *

Peggy sighed and stretched lazily, curling up against Steve just a moment longer. "Good morning, darling." Her eyes caught the clock face and she sighed, this time languidly. "Doctors will be here soon. Can you wake up for me today, love?" She asked that question every morning. Like every morning, he didn't answer and she picked herself off the bed. "Alright then. Maybe tomorrow."

She tucked the covers up around him and went to the bathroom to do her morning ablutions. She came back a few minutes later and settled down in her chair. "Breakfast will be here soon. Howard told me there would be flapjacks, if you were interested in eating. I remember how much you like them."

Jarvis played the role of waiter, and delivered the newspaper to Peggy. "Any change?" he asked. 

"Not yet."

"It will happen."

He offered to take a shift watching over Steve, and she agreed, if only because she didn't want Phillips to physically throw her outside and 'liven the hell up.' Again. The gym facilities provided enough distraction to raise Peggy's spirits again—she may or may not have bloodied up a few agents in the process—and she was back in Steve's room by lunch.

"Thank you, Mr. Jarvis." She took her chair again, but instead of leaving, he lingered at the doorway. "Jarvis? Did the doctor say something?"

"No! No, he merely recorded the vitals on Captain Rogers' chart. I... Miss Carter, may I ask you a personal question?"

"As long as you understand that being Howard's butler won't stop me from hurting you if the occasion calls for it."

He was too used to her ways by now to be surprised. "Of course. Miss Carter, what will you do if he doesn't wake up? Or if you're called to work before then?"

"You heard too?"

"Mr. Stark was not quiet on the subject, no." 

"I don't know." Wosser had called and demanded that she return to work. No amount of protests could stop him, and even Colonel's Phillips' orders only allowed her a stay of execution.  _ 'She comes back Monday,'  _ he'd snapped, ‘ _ or she gets transferred to Milwaukee!'  _

"I know I cannot imagine going through this same hardship with Anna. I don't know how you do it."

"It's Steve," she answered simply "I would do anything for him. I know he would do anything for me." She shrugged. "There's not much I can do about it, Mr. Jarvis, except deal with life as it comes." She walked over to Steve's bed and pulled the covers over him again. 

Again.

"Mr. Jarvis, did you uncover Steve?"

"No, Miss Carter. I have never touched him."

Peggy stopped. "But you said the doctor only wrote..." The door was still open, and she closed it. "You said the doctor didn't touch him either?"

"No, ma'am."

"I... I covered him up before I left. After all the cold... Steve?" She shook his shoulder. "Steve, are you awake?"

He wasn't.

"Miss Carter," Jarvis started. 

"I know."

"Perhaps the blanket just rolled off," Jarvis said, not unkindly. "Or you thought you covered him, but didn't."

"Yes, I suppose so." She shook her head and pursed her mouth. "I think I'm starting to go mad, Mr. Jarvis."

"I don't concur, Miss Carter, but perhaps this work request comes at a good time. You won't have to give up contact, however; Mr. Stark has promised that when you leave, Captain Rogers will be transferred to one of his residences in New York City. With your permission, of course."

"Yes," she said softly. "Yes, that sounds like a good plan." The thoughts in her head had turned dark, however, and even her night rituals couldn't soothe her mind. 

***

Peggy felt a tug on her headscarf. It caught on one of her blasted hairpins again, she thought sleepily, and tugged it free. The cloth wouldn't come away, though, partially stuck under Steve's arm. Swallowing a yawn, she pushed him back enough to free it and sat up. She haphazardly pulled pins from her hair and set them on the portable tray beside the bed. The base could survive seeing her one day without her pin curls, she decided, and quickly went back to sleep. 

There was a loud metallic crash and Peggy froze. She kept her body absolutely still, only moving her hand the slightest bit to reach under her pillow for her gun. She listened, but she could not hear anyone in the room besides her and Steve. 

She opened her eyes and looked through her eyelashes. The room was empty, but the tray with her hairpins lay on the floor. 

That confused her. She was never one to move much in her sleep, so if  _ she  _ didn't do it... The doctors knew better than to enter the room before she raised the blinds, after one thoughtful doctor tried to prod her awake and got a pistol in the face for his trouble. It made no sense. The door was closed, she was alone with Steve and Steve... 

Steve's arms were wrapped around her waist. 

_ Both _ his arms were wrapped around her waist. 

Peggy felt her eyes grow wide and she slowly turned and faced Steve. He was rolled onto his side, deep breaths making his chest rise and fall, and his grip tightened slightly. Peggy bit hard on her lip to keep from crying out, and even when she tasted blood she didn't stop. She stretched and tugged on the lamp cord, lighting the area over their heads. Steve was still asleep, but his brow was furrowed. Peggy wanted to dance at the expression. Expression! On Steve's face! At last! She kissed him and then reached down to pull free but his arms tightened again, this time pulling her flush against him. 

She didn't want to shout and wake him up, but she wasn't sure she could help him if he was actually conscious. As much as it killed her to admit it, the doctors needed to make sure he was completely sane. She'd seen Steve during a nightmare before, and as much as she loved him, she wasn't eager to be in his arms without some backup in the room. 

Peggy still had her hand around the light cord, so she pulled on it again, plunging the room into semidarkness. She pulled again, breaking the light into short and long periods of duration. Short-short-short. Long-long-long. Short-short-short. And again. She hoped someone passing by would see the SOS and peer in quietly. 

"Darling," she whispered, her hand still tugging. "Steve, are you awake? I need you to wake up, love. It's me. It's Peggy." 

His weight shifted on the mattress as an agent poked his head into the room. "Agent Carter? Are you alright, ma'am?"

She released the cord and cupped Steve's face. "I need you to get Stark and the doctors and Colonel Phillips. He's waking up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, bit of a cliffhanger, this one. *Hides behind shield* You still up to watching Agent Carter later? I'll post another chapter. Yes? Coolio. *oops, my 90's kid is showing*


	6. While You Were Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's waking up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How amazing was the start of Agent Carter?! I realized way too late live-tweeting and spoilers are a thing, so if I spoiled anything I AM SO SORRY! Let me make it up to you with this new chapter!

_"Darling," she whispered, her hand still tugging. "Steve, are you awake? I need you to wake up, love. It's me. It's Peggy."_

_His weight shifted on the mattress as an agent poked his head into the room. "Agent Carter? Are you alright, ma'am?"_

_She released the cord and cupped Steve's face. "I need you to get Stark and the doctors and Colonel Phillips. He's waking up."_

***

The men entered the room in record time, some pulling on robes over their pajamas and tripping over bootlaces.

"Peg?" Howard struggled for breath. “Is it true?”

She ignored him, keeping her focus on Steve’s face. "Steve, darling, I need you to wake up, ok?" She scratched gently across his jaw and he shook his head.

Half the room cheered, the other half gasped, and Howard nearly crushed her as he tried to get into Steve's face. "Oh my god. He's doing it! He's waking up! Come on, Rogers. Snap out of it!"

The doctors pulled the intravenous line out, as well as got a blood pressure and pulse reading, but for the most part they hovered by the back wall. Phillips looked on from the corner, but he held Howard back as Peggy kept trying to get Steve to regain consciousness.

"I know you're comfortable, Rogers, but I need you to wake up now, do you understand? Captain Rogers! _Steve!"_ She slapped him, but he only struggled to lift his eyelids. Peggy resorted to the ridiculous and did the only thing she could think of. "Colonel Phillips, could you ask him to wake up?" She covered her ears and braced herself.

_"ROGERS!"_

Steve snapped upright, pulling Peggy with him as the room cheered. She straddled his legs and cupped his face. "Steve?"

"Peggy?" he croaked. Peggy felt tears spring into her eyes and she started laughing. "What... What's going on?"

"You're awake!" Howard rammed into his side, nearly sending all three of them toppling off the bed. Steve steadied them, and took stock of his surroundings.

"What is going on? Where am I?"

"Steve, what do you remember?" Peggy asked. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"I... I was fighting Schmidt. But... But I died. The plane..." He swallowed and rubbed at his throat. Howard, in a fit of thoughtfulness, gave him a cup of water. "My mouth feels stuffed with cotton," he gasped, reaching out for more.

"That makes sense," Peggy said. "You've been bedridden for a while. In total, I think you have been unconscious four months."

"124 days!" Howard cried. "I've been keeping track."

"I've been... What?"

Peggy rolled off his lap and stood at his side instead. His eyes widened when they took in her clothes, and he turned bright red as he realized how she’d been sitting earlier. "Steve, the doctors need to look you over to make sure you're ok, but then I'll explain everything." She held her hands up to push back the men that surged forward. "Steve, can they look you over?"

He nodded, and the doctors swarmed. His eyes never left Peggy's face, and she made sure to stand nearby. Howard leaned against the wall next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Our boy's back, Carter. And let me just say, you look wonderful. I love the not-sexed-sex-hair. Is this outfit Coco Chanel?"

She elbowed him in the stomach, smiling as he hunched over. "He's back."

 

* * *

 

The doctors took their sweet time checking out Steve, making him walk about the room and perform a few light exercise, but it was close to four in the morning and Peggy had gotten used to regular sleep cycles. "Alright, you vultures. You've triple-checked Captain Rogers, I'm sure he'll be fine until morning."

"But we should keep monitoring him—" one of the doctors protested.

"I'll monitor him," she interrupted. "Now unless anyone has any other objections?" No one dared open their mouth against her raised eyebrow. "In that case, gentlemen, good night!"

Only Phillips and Howard remained after she locked the door. "Didn't think we would have you back," Phillips started, before he turned his gaze at Peggy. "Carter, wanna get out out those bedclothes?"

"I'm going to sleep after this, Colonel," she answered from her chair. "These aren't going anywhere."

"Sleep, she says." Howard sat on the bed next to Steve. "How are you feeling, bud, really?"

"I don't know. I want to know why I'm not dead, I guess."

"Erskine's serum," Peggy said. "Our best hypothesis yet is that between the cold and the serum, your body went into a state of suspended animation or hibernation. What we cannot figure out, however, is how you haven't lost any significant muscle mass or suffered brain damage from being gone so long."

"Did you feel anything?" Phillips asked. "Any dreams? Pain?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't know. I remember that I was pushing the plane down," he looked over at Peggy, who looked away so her eyes would stay dry, "and there was the impact of the crash. It felt kind of like... like I was here and not here. You know how sometimes, when you've been awake for too long, or you're in that state of being half-asleep... I don't know how else to describe it."

"And then you woke up in Peggy's arms."

"Don't make me shoot you, Howard." She crossed her arms and leveled a glare at his direction. "I might be tired but I do not miss."

Phillips harrumphed. "Glad you're back, Rogers. Your men will be glad to know you made it back to the land of the living."

"The Howlers, sir?"

"They know you're not dead. I'm going to send them a telegram. They'll turn up in a day or so." He clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Get some rest, Rogers," he said, before he swept out of the room.

"I'll leave you two to it, too." Howard punched Steve's arm and hopped off the bed. "Something tells me the missus has something she wants to talk to you about." He dodged a swipe from Peggy, pecked her on the cheek, and whistled as he left the room.

Peggy rolled her eyes and locked the door behind them. “Asshole.”

“Peggy?”

She turned around and saw Steve staring at her.  From experience, she knew he was having a hard time not collapsing into an embarrassed heap, so she took pity on him. “No, I'm not leaving.”

He seemed to shrink a little in relief. “Thank you.”

She padded over shut off the light before climbing into bed with him. Her arms automatically wound around his waist and he stiffened up again. “Peggy? What are you—”

“I've been sleeping like this the last couple of weeks and I'm in no hurry to spend the night in a chair. Get some rest, Rogers.”

Steve reached back and turned the light on. “Peggy, I’ve been sleeping for four months. I think you're going to need to explain that a little more.”

Peggy sighed and turned off the light. “Lights off. I don't think I can look you in the face and talk.” She tugged him down so he lay by her side, and Peggy maneuvered their bodies so they pressed together. “Better.”

He didn't pull away, but he didn't relax into her either. “Please, Peg.”

She sighed again. “I think I should start with this.” She took both of Steve's hands and sandwiched her left one between them.

He felt the ring and turned on the light. “Peggy—”

“God dammit, Steve!” She turned off the light. “I'm serious. I'm going to chicken out if the lights are on.”

“That’s my mother’s ring.”

Her heart fell at his words, so she fought to make hers light. “Well, I would hope you wouldn't mind your wife wearing it, if your last letters were to be believed.”

At that, Steve did relax his body, but only to bury his face in her hair. “You read them.”

She slapped his chest. “Of course I did! You crashed your fucking plane in the ocean! I thought you were dead! And then Colonel Phillips gave me your effects and Howard got me a wedding band and you told me you loved me in your letters and I went to see Mrs. Barnes—”

“—you met Mother Barnes?”

“—and she gave me the ring. I hadn't told anyone but then they found you and the doctors wanted to take your blood and I couldn't stop them so I told them that we _were_ married and the Howlers know that's a farce now, but everyone else is in the dark.”

“So are we.”

_“Steven!”_

“I'm sorry!”

She pushed her face against his chest. “Now is not the time for jokes, Steve.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” He hugged her carefully, gently, obviously nervous about touching her but it was still contact and for that she was grateful. “I'm really sorry.”

Peggy tugged the covers up over them and pulled away from him enough to make out his face in the shadows. “You've been gone for so long.”

“Tell me what's happened.”

She did. She talked about the end of the war, how the Allies won, how the Barnes were doing, that she worked for the SSR in New York. She talked for a long time, and Steve only listened silently to her.

“That’s it,” she finally finished. “Then you woke up. Howard was getting ready to ship you out to New York with me if you hadn't, though.”

Steve took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.”

“You made me cry,” she whispered. “I cried so much for you.” The tears came through her words and Steve held her as she cried, angry, violent sobs that shook the bed.

Steve whispered platitudes into her hair as he pressed kiss after kiss to her head, cradling her body in his arms.

***

Peggy came to in Steve’s arms, buried under the covers and the room still dark. She didn't move, but Steve still knew she was awake. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Best intentions,” she murmured.

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the rings on her finger. “Why?”

“Why did you?”

“Dead man’s wish. I wanted to tell you, so many times, but I kept thinking, when the war is all over, I would ask you to go dancing. Figured, dame like you deserved that and more.”

“You should have said something,” she tried to joke. “Should have seen my face when Phillips gave me those papers.”

“I just wanted… I wanted to do something for you,” he whispered. “If I died… I was dead, Peg. I did die.”

“Hey…” She stretched so she could reach his face. “You didn't.”

His voice was so soft she almost didn't make out his words. “I should've.”

A knife of ice stabbed her chest. “Never, ever,” she whispered, “say that again.” Her voice was steel, and Steve should have known better than to argue.

“Peggy—”

“Don't you _dare!_ ” She turned on the lamp and saw his face, crumbled in the dull light. “Don't you dare say it. You do _not_ get to wish you were dead.”

“But I shouldn’t have woken up,” he said, in that Steve-said-it-so-it-must-be-true manner of his. “How many men and women didn't make it out of the war? How many children? How many soldiers did we lose? What right do I have to survive where they didn't?”

“You don't get to make that choice,” she hissed. She moved so she loomed over him, her face just centimeters from his. “We lost a lot of good people that didn't deserve to die. Where do you want to go with this? That you're alive and Bucky isn't? None of the other Howlers are dead. I’m not dead.” Her words seemed to shame Steve into settling back, but she was already angry. “Do you think for one _moment_ that he would let you think any of this? He’s gone and it’s not fair. You lost your best friend, Rebecca lost her brother, and Winifred lost her son. But you know what? You're. Not. Dead. We mourned you, we thought you were gone too, but we didn't lose you. So don't go wishing things were different.”

“Peggy—”

Her hand was on her gun and the weapon was in his face before he could continue.

“Don't think I won't shoot you,” she warned. “I've shot at you for a much stupider thing and I know you heal fast. I can make it hurt in the meantime.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“Don't make me shoot you.”

He sighed and pulled the gun gently from her grip. “Stand down, Agent.” He tucked the gun under her pillow again and turned off the light. A pause, then—

“Would you really have shot me?”

“You know I have no patience for stupidity. You're not supposed to be this daft.”

“Can I blame shell-shock?”

“Survivor’s guilt,” she corrected. “You're not the only one who’s been thinking stupid stuff.”

There was a deafening silence. “Tell me you didn't.”

She hadn’t meant to reveal so much. To allude to all those lonely nights and never-ending days, to the sense of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm her on more than one occasion. “Shoe’s on the other foot, Rogers.” She smiled grimly, not that he could see it. “How does it feel?”

“Tell me you didn't,” he repeated.

“I have a good support system,” she said instead. “The Howlers. Mrs. Barnes and Rebecca. Howard, surprisingly enough. Phillips and my brother. A waitress at my lunch spot that makes me laugh.” She took a deep breath and wriggled closer to him. “It's a dark place, Steve, and I don't want you to go through it too.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

They lay in silence for so long Peggy thought Steve had gone back to sleep. A part of her worried he wouldn't wake up again, so she petted his face like so many previous nights. His voice nearly shocked her off the bed. “I have a question.”

“Good, because we have a lot to talk about.”

“It's a bit stupid.”

“So are you.”

“While you were asleep, I went to the bathroom to wash and brush my teeth. I went through the entire tube of toothpaste, by the way.”

“I'll get more tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I was missing a straight razor. Would that have something to do with the rug on my face?”

The absurdity of the question combined with the lateness of the hour to make it very hard for Peggy not to laugh. “Howard offered to shave you, but having anyone holding a razor to your neck made me uncomfortable, so I decided you could shave yourself when you were awake.”

“Thanks.”

His statement was more of a question than an affirmation, so her fingers didn't stop stroking his beard. “Of course. You don't look too uncivilized with facial hair, if you decide to keep it. Now, may we talk about the elephant in the room?”

His hand found her fingers in the dark. “You're wearing the claddagh ring correctly.”

“I would hope. Mrs. Barnes instructed me.”

“Great woman, Mother Barnes.”

“She has declared me her daughter-in-law and I've been to two Sunday dinners already.”

“Does she know that…?”

“Yes. I made it clear to both her and Rebecca that this was part of your final will.”

“How did they react?”

“They love you, Steve. They understood. Also, it wasn't a huge surprise, as I've been told you mentioned me in several previous letters.”

“I did.” Even if Peggy couldn't see, she knew Steve was bright red. “I'm sorry if I offended you or—”

“Darling,” she interrupted, “I was flattered.”

He kissed her hand again. “I've mucked this all up. I was supposed to make it to the end of the war and ask you to go dancing and instead I asked you to go along with a farce that makes a film script look natural.”

Peggy propped herself up so she was resting with her face a breath away from his. If he wasn't going to say it, then she would. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unintentional cliffhanger! Sorry, but the chapter would've been ridiculously long otherwise.
> 
> So, apparently timelines are not my forte. I sincerely thought Steve had crashed the plane in August instead of March (don't ask me why, because I have no clue). If anyone is interested in what is going on time-wise in this AU: Steve crashed in August. The war ended in September. Peggy joined the SSR New York office in November. Steve was found in December. 
> 
> Clear as mud? Great! Let's see when I can post the next chapter!


	7. I've Got Lips Meant For Tasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy let each other know exactly how they feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHEAD! So, this will be undergoing a rating change. If the exchange of bodily fluids between two consenting adults isn't your cup of tea, feel free to skip to Chapter 8.
> 
> Also, the chapter title comes from the song "Don't Do Me Wrong" by Kacee Clanton. I feel like that song is more appropriate for Howard Stark, but the song itself is great.

_ Peggy propped herself up so she was resting with her face a breath away from his. If he wasn't going to say it, then she would. “Steve?”  _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Do you still love me?” _

"Peggy..."

“Yes or no, soldier.”

“I love you.”

A hot wave flooded her body, better than the finest liquor she had ever drank. “Good, because I love you too.”

She would never be sure if it was Steve who moved first, or if it was her. Most likely it was both, because the moment her words ended Steve’s mouth met hers and she was kissing the daylights out of him.

For all that Barnes liked to tease him about his lack of experience, Steve was not a bad kisser. As a matter of fact, Steve was a very, _very_ good kisser. In seconds he’d maneuvered them on the bed so she was resting on top of him, her chest pressed against his, as his hands caressed her body and her fingers fisted in his hair. The movement of his lips over hers made her moan, and his tongue slipped in to meet hers. He wasn't a forceful lover, but he was by no means gentle as he bit down on her lip and soothed it with kisses. Her breathing became labored and with a deliciously sordid pop, she pulled away. “Steve,” she gasped.

But Steve was also Mr. I-can-hold-my-breath-for-ten-minutes, so he merely moved down and the burn of his beard against the delicate skin of her neck made her throw her head back and _moan._

“I like that sound,” he muttered. “Make it again.”

But Peggy wasn't one to be ordered around, so she straddled Steve, making him groan. “Make me,” she smirked, grinding her hips against his.

Steve’s hands went around her waist and pushed up the fabric of her shirt. “This is mine.” He teased his fingers over her skin, making her giggle when they dipped into her belly button.

“What are you going to do about it?”

His fingers trailed slowly higher and higher, until they reached the bottom of her breasts. Between the touch on her skin and the kisses on her neck, Peggy couldn't help crying out.

“That was a good thing, right?”

She tugged the shirt over her head and placed his hands directly on her bare chest. “You have no idea.”

His hands on her breasts made Steve freeze, and he started to pull away. “Peggy, are you sure—?”

“If you stop, I'm going to bash you over the head with your shield. I don't have any rubbers, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy each other.”

Steve sat them up against the headboard, still keeping Peggy in his lap. “Are you sure?”

“I feel like that should be my line.”

“God, I love you,” he whispered before he leaned down and took the tip of one breast into his mouth. Peggy cried out again as he sucked gently on her nipple, his hand teasing the other tip as his free hand caressed her back. The rough scratch of his beard made Peggy fist her hands in his hair and push him tighter into her.

“More. Please, Steve, more!” She ground her hips down as he moved to her other breast, and she could feel his arousal growing under her. “Steve…”

“Peggy…” His whispered phrases melted into her skin. “So soft… Fucking beautiful… Love you…”

Peggy was never one to be left out, so she used a few well-learned moves to stretch them down on the bed, this time with Steve hovering over her. She peeled his shirt off, sending it flying to join her own, and enjoyed several minutes of fondling his own chest. “You're very pretty, you know.”

“Pretty, doll?”

She bit one of his nipples, laughing when he jumped. “Very handsome, then.”

Making out shirtless was all very good, but Peggy had already soaked through her underpants and Steve’s erection was taunting her. She moaned when he nipped at her neck again, and she slid her hands down to the back of his sweatpants. “These have to go.”

He was out of his bottoms before she could pull the drawstring on hers, and he stilled her hands. “Let me?”

Memories of his sketches made Peggy’s arousal flare up again, and she quickly assented. Steve, though…

Steve took his sweet time untying the front of her sweatpants. He pulled the cloth off her with care, bending down to kiss the skin as it was exposed. He ended up kneeling between her legs and Peggy had to try not to reenact several of his drawings then and there.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, kissing his way back up her body. Delicious tendrils of heat made Peggy arch her back and she couldn't help spreading her legs and touching herself through her pants.

The room was still dark, but Steve’s eyes were well used to bad lighting and his hands braced her hips. “Peggy, what are you doing?”

“Don't be surprised, Rogers,” she teased. “You've drawn this before.”

“You've seen my sketchbooks?”

She nodded, dipping her fingers under the drenched fabric of her underpants and moaning as it relieved a small part of the ache. “The moment we can get decent privacy we are going to see how many of those positions we can perform.”

“We are going to need rubbers,” he said. “Lots and lots of rubbers.”

“Man with a plan.” She flicked the tip of one finger over her clit and she shuddered with pleasure. “Steve, I have a plan right now.”

“I'm always glad to follow orders.”

She tugged him up so he was over her. “You're a rotten liar, Rogers.”

“I follow them when they're from you.”

“Then take those pants off, soldier.” Her hands were on his lower back, so she felt as Steve slid his underwear down, and when her hands cupped Steve’s bare ass she wasn't sure who moaned louder, her or Steve. “I want you. Now.”

He displaced his weight carefully on his arms and knees, but Peggy knocked him down. All of his weight collapsed on top of her and she groaned.

“Peg, sorry, I—”

“I like you on top of me,” she interrupted. Her legs spread wider, his hands following the lines of her body as he placed himself where they both wanted him to go. The tip of his erection bumped the wet folds behind her underwear and Steve grabbed her hips so hard Peggy knew they would be bruised by morning.

“Peggy, you're _soaked.”_

“You have no idea. Wait until we have those rubbers. Or I'll get a diaphragm and there won't be anything separating us.” Her hands reached down and wrapped around his erection, velvet-wrapped steel, and Steve’s hips bucked forward. “I want to feel all of you, Steve,” she crooned into his ear.

“Peggy, sweetheart,” he groaned as she squeezed lightly around him. “If you keep that up this is going to be over too soon.”

“I can't wait.” She placed him against the fabric of her pants and thrust her hips forward experimentally. He slid smoothly over her entrance and rubbed directly over her clit. The pleasure from the pass made her hands grip his ass, nails biting down into the hard flesh. Steve seemed to like it, because he braced himself and started thrusting.

For all that everyone liked to tease Steve about his inexperience with women, he wasn't a virgin. A batch of bathtub moonshine at a party had taken care of that a number of years ago, and neither Steve nor the girl remembered much, but Grace had been apparently undisturbed. She’d told Steve that he'd been very sweet before going off to study music in California.

Steve always swore he didn't recall any important details, but the way he reached down to rub her clit and suck on her nipples made Peggy question the veracity of his story, or at least how much Bucky Barnes had taught his best friend. For now, though… for now all she cared about was angling her hips to meet Steve’s and kissing every inch of his chest that she could reach. His beard, God, that deliciously thick scruff was rubbing over her chest, and she mewled as he thrust harder and harder against her. She was close, so close, “so close, Steve, please, I need to come, I need you, love, please—”

Steve suddenly pulled away from her and tore off her panties. In that moment, Peggy didn't care about pregnancy risk or venereals, she just wanted Steve inside of her. But Steve move down until he was between her legs and he licked up her bare folds and the scrape of his beard against her cunt made her whine and then he sucked on her clit, hard, and she was coming, God, she was coming hard and she didn't know if the ringing in her ears was her orgasm or her scream and she didn't care. The nerves between her legs set off a chain reaction that made her entire body seize and she was vaguely aware of her nails scratching deep furloughs into Steve’s back, or Steve jerking himself off beneath her, but she was dying with pleasure.

She came down eventually, the white behind her eyes fading down to black again, and her breaths evening out to a somewhat regular rhythm. She became aware of Steve pressing himself up against her, kissing every bit of her that he could reach, and Peggy managed to maneuver the noodles that used to be her arms around him. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he whispered back. “I love you so much.”

Peggy wanted nothing more than to curl up beside Steve and sleep, but she forced herself to open her eyes and climb out of the bed. “Peggy?”

“Still need to clean up, soldier.” Even though he hadn't actually been inside of her, Peggy’s legs were weak and she stumbled on her way to the bathroom. She wiped herself clean with a hand towel and brought a fresh one out to Steve. She found that he’d turned the light on and was stripping the bed. There were several stains from more than one source, but Peggy was distracted by the fact that Steve was still completely naked.

She didn't mean to walk and press herself behind him, much like she didn't mean to touch his chest after coming out of Howard’s machine, but she did it anyway. An arm wrapped around his waist, trailing up to fondle a pectoral as the other reached down to wipe at his penis with the towel. “I thought you'd finished,” she said; his dick was still hard, and she dropped the towel down to the bed instead.

“I did.” Her hand wrapped around his erection and started stroking upward. “S-side effect of the serum.”

She nipped his shoulder. “I'm going to have so much fun with you.” She stroked harder, faster, and somehow Steve ended up bending over the bed as Peggy jerked him off. “Short refractory period and long stamina… you’ll have no idea what hit you.”

“I'm pretty sure I have a good idea,” he managed to say as she worked the tip of her finger over his slit.

“Oh really?” She flipped him over and pushed him onto the bed. He fell back automatically, but he jerked back up when Peggy dropped to her knees and took the head of his dick into her mouth.

His strangled scream made Peggy hollow out her cheeks and suck, and his hands fisted in her hair, trying to pull her back. “Peggy, you don't—”

She peeled away and peppered his shaft with kisses. “I want to. You made me feel good.”

“That’s not—ah!” Her tongue dipped into his slit. “That's not what I did it!”

“That's why I love you. Now I want you to watch.” She took him in her mouth again, swallowing him down as far as she could and rubbing what didn't fit in her mouth, which thankfully wasn't a huge amount. “Come for me, Steve. I want you to come in my mouth.” She bobbed her head faster and faster, a hand went down to his balls and squeezed gently, and Steve exploded with a cry. Cum shot into her mouth and she swallowed what she could, but it still dripped down to her chest. She worked him through his orgasm and the aftershocks, and when he finally lay boneless on the bed, she sat back on her heels and grinned. “How was that for unexpected?”

“You are…” He tried to push himself up on his elbows, but they gave way under him. “Fucking gorgeous, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Good, because I love you too.” She picked up the discarded towel and gently wiped him clean. The sheets were doubly messy, so she just threw them to the floor and wedged the blanket under Steve’s body. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet.” He waved his hand, beckoning her forward. She got on the bed and started to lay down, but he grabbed her by the hips. “You're so beautiful, naked and on your knees.” He lifted her up and settled her over his mouth. “You’re still an orgasm behind me.”

Peggy tried to reach the headboard, but they were angled away from it and she had to rest backwards, her hands on Steve's hips, to keep from falling. “Steve?”

“You looked through my sketchbook,” he said, the hair on his chin brushing against the hair between her legs. “You know what’s coming.”

“Better be me,” she said.

“Damn straight.” He licked upward and Peggy would've collapsed if he hadn't been holding her upright. His technique was messy and inexperienced, but the enthusiasm and her instructions more than made up for it as he ate her out. His tongue made appearances at her entrance, teasing her lips before pushing in, then going up to circle her clit and spread her glistening juices between her thighs with his beard. Peggy clawed his abdomen, his shoulders, his head as he made her come so hard she saw stars again, and then pushed her through the overstimulation stage straight into another orgasm. By the time he let her off, the bed was soaked again and Peggy could hardly keep her eyes open.

Steve tenderly cleaned her off with the discarded towel and kissed her deeply, his taste on her tongue mingling with hers in his. “I love you.”

Peggy nodded, and then she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger over? Please rate the scene so I know how I can improve. Practice makes perfect, right? Comments please!


	8. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after. 
> 
> Steve's awake. What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did you guys like the last chapter?

Peggy woke up alone.

  
She sat up and looked around to find the room empty, and tried to get off the bed. Tried, because the soreness between her thighs made her collapse back onto the mattress with a gasp. She found herself giggling at the ache, and looked around again. The bedding had been changed and she was back in Steve’s shirt and sweats. Her hair was actually braided back neatly, and there was only one person she knew who could have done it.

  
Making her way to the bathroom proved her right, where a small message on the mirror in her lipstick read “Doctors. Tests. Love you.”

  
She dressed quickly, deciding to leave her hair as Steve has done it, and slipped out of the room.

  
Peggy unsurprisingly found most of the base crowded in the gymnasium, where they were watching the doctors watch Steve doing push-ups, counting as he lowered his body to the floor. “537, 538, 539, 540…”

  
“He can keep those up forever, you know.” Several eyes turned to look at Peggy. “I would have tried headstand push-ups. His balance can be terrible sometimes.”

  
“We have to establish a baseline,” one of the doctors said.

  
“I hope you fed him first.” Sheepish looks met her eyes, and a few of the smarter agents headed out of the gym. “Captain Rogers.”

  
“Yes, ma'am?” He didn't even sound winded, and Peggy could hear the smile in his response. Any anxiety about next-day awkwardness vanished.

  
“Mess. Now.” The crowd dispersed, many making their way to the cafeteria, and the doctors huddled together to discuss their findings.

  
“Good morning,” he said quietly, ducking down to kiss her cheek.

  
Peggy kissed him back properly, and wiped away at the red she transferred to his mouth. “I love you, but the next time you use my lipstick you're a dead man. I'm going to go dismember some doctors, so get started without me.”

  
“Yes, ma'am.” He jogged off and Peggy enjoyed ripping the remaining doctors and agents a new orifice. She reduced at least one of them to tears before shooing them off after Steve.

  
“That was a work of art,” Howard applauded her. She hadn't even seen him show up. “I really enjoyed how you made Agent Hett piss himself.”

  
“It was a close thing,” she allowed. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

  
“Don't you mean lunch? I already ate, but I'll join you, if you want.”

  
“How magnanimous of you, Howard.”

  
“It's half past noon, Peg.” He smirked when her step faltered for a moment. “Last night must have been some night, then. You were safe though, right? Or am I gonna be Uncle Howie now? You'll have to train me to be good with the brat, because if you ever ask me to babysit it'll be Jarvis and Anna looking after your spawn.”

  
Peggy punched his arm. “You're insufferable, you know.”

  
“It's part of my charm.”

  
“Snakes have more charm that you, Howard.”

  
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Rogers.”

  
“Prat.”

  
They joined Steve in the mess, where they watched him attempt to compensate for a four month fast, and Peggy cut him off after the fifth trip to the cooks. “You're going to explode and I am not going to clean up super soldier guts off my shoes.”

  
“I can handle it, Peggy.”

  
“If you're still hungry in a couple hours, we can com by again.”  
Steve leaned over so his mouth was at her ear. “And if I'm hungry for something else?” he purred.

  
It took all of Peggy’s training to not visibly react. She made a not to make him pay for it later. “Then I suggest you ask for proper utensils before you get to desert. Howard’s your best bet, I believe. He has quite a hearty appetite.”

  
“I don't know if his… fondue pot is large enough for what I had in mind. Steve grinned down at her and Peggy rolled her eyes.   
“You are hopeless, Steve.”

  
“Hopelessly in love with you.”

  
Peggy couldn't help blushing then, and it was only a private interrupting, asking that they meet with Colonel Phillips, that saved her from responding.

  
Steve, Peggy, and Howard, who refused to leave them alone, returned to Steve’s room, where Colonel Phillips was waiting. The older man gave everyone the stink eye, but Peggy was used to it, so she brushed it off the quickest. “Yes, Colonel?”

  
“I will start by saying that this room is not soundproofed, and you should be glad that the guards on their floor had no access to recording equipment and were eager to leave you alone.”

  
Peggy didn't blush this time, but Steve was the color of a tomato and Howard was rolling on the floor, laughing. “Noted, sir,” Steve said clearly. “But what Peggy and I do on in our private time should be our business only.”

  
“So you two are going to go along with this marriage sham?”

  
Steve looked back at Peggy. They hadn't gotten around to discussing it thoroughly last night. It would be a very serious conversation, and they would need to figure things out before they got distracted again. Peggy nodded at him, so Steve turned to Phillips. “Yes, sir.”

  
The colonel harrumphed, but his eyes showed he was pleased with their response. “Fine. Stark’s paperwork was all filed legally, so you are married. Congratulations.” Phillips paused, shooting Howard a glare when he cheered and mimed throwing rice at the couple. “Now we need to talk. Rogers, you were declared KIA four months ago. There was a public announcement and as of now, only the people on this base and the Howling Commandos are aware of the truth. The SSR wants to use that to their advantage.”

  
“What do you mean, sir?” Peggy asked.

  
“The Commandos are still working in Europe. Eastern front, Western front, everything in between; there are still Nazi and Hydra members out there, and even without the Tesseract technology they pose a threat to the people in those areas. The Russians are no longer so friendly with the United States, and we suspect they might be performing their own version of Operation Paperclip.”

  
If Peggy had been the type to spit, she would have done so, but she settled on grimacing instead. “That bullshit leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” Howard said.

  
“What's Paperclip?” Steve asked.

  
“Secret government order allowing the States to recruit enemy scientists with valuable skills,” Peggy explained. “Somehow, they seem to forget that Schmidt and Zola were scientists too, and the experiments that the Nazis performed on the Jewish people make the Red Skull seem tame.”

  
Steve, to whom Peggy had explained the atrocities of the Nazi’s Holocaust, nodded. “And the Howlers are taking them down?”  
“Yes. Dugan is leading at the moment, but something tells me he would not mind stepping down. And Carter… Rogers?”

  
“Carter,” Peggy affirmed. “Two Rogers would get confusing.”

  
“Carter, Wosser wants you back in four days’ time.”

  
“When are the Howlers due back?” Peggy asked.

  
“Tomorrow morning.”

  
“Can I think about it until then?” Steve asked. “Now that I'm not dead, there's a lot to consider.”

  
Phillips nodded. “I would give you longer, but the SSR wants an answer ASAP. They are still accepting your relationship with Carter as real, and they want you to consider the money from your death a hazard pay bonus. You’d be paid more than you were during the war, and you would lead your team as you did then. We might be able to negotiate some leave, but they want you in the field quickly.”

  
“I understand,” Steve said. “I still need to think it over.”

  
Phillips nodded again. “Fine. Just know that no matter what you choose, Captain America will remain dead. You'll have your shield in the field, but it's better for the enemy to think your ghost is haunting them.” He smiled. “It's a nice twist, don't you think?”

  
Howard threw himself on the bed. “You changed the sheets, right? Peg, put that away. I know having a gun to his face turns Rogers on but I like my women a little more docile.”

  
“Tread lightly, Stark,” Steve said.

  
“I know, I know.” He settled himself on the bed anyway. “I wanted to talk to you about Carter and Chief Tosser.”

  
“I thought his name was Wosser,” Steve stage whispered to Peggy.

  
“Close enough.”

  
“The chief wants Peggy back in a few days. I know you're living with Maureen—”

  
“—Colleen—”

  
“—Colleen, but if Rogers decided he wants to become a full time artist instead and live with you in pretend-sin, I have a few houses in New York. I don't use all of them and with two workaholics, you would be perfect tenants.”

  
Peggy felt her jaw drop. “Howard, you've got to be joking.”

  
“Well, technically you wouldn't be tenants because I already have a ton of money and you wouldn't be paying rent. Just some food for thought.”

  
“You can deal with all of that later,” Phillips said. “For now, we need to focus on getting Carter back stateside and Rogers declared fit for duty. That involves a couple of headshrinkers. I know you're not crazy,” he said, holding up a hand to hold off the protests that rose. “Standard SSR procedure for those thought dead.”

  
“If it will get me out of here any faster,” Steve said.

  
“They’re not too bad,” Howard added helpfully. “Hopefully you get Monica. She’s got a great set of… brains,” he said quickly, catching Peggy’s pointed look. “Don't gimme that, Carter. You might be boring and married, but that doesn't mean I can't look.”

  
“You've done a lot more than looking, Howard. I hope someday you find a woman that won't give you the time of day, and I will laugh watching you try to woo her.”

  
“I already tried. You pushed me into a river, remember?”

  
“You kissed me!” Peggy shrieked, throwing a pillow at him.

  
“And I had a black eye for a week. Usually grieving widows don't put up that much of a fight with me.”

  
“You're lucky Peggy let you go with just the black eye,” Steve said. His tone was light, but it was easy to tell that he didn't find the situation all that funny.

  
“Lesson learned, Cap. Your old lady’s not going anywhere,” Stark said, before avoiding another pillow and flying out the door, yelling something about the apartment over his shoulder.

  
“Lord save me from strangling that man,” Peggy sighed, settling into her chair.

  
“He grows on you,” Steve said.

  
“Kind of like that mold on Falsworth’s shoes.”

  
“Yeah, kinda like that.”

  
“If I can get your attention,” Phillips barked, making both Peggy and Steve jerk upright, “we can move this along. Rogers, Carter, this is what will happen…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a line... What do you think happens now?


	9. Why Do You Stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to return to New York. Peggy says goodbye to one friend and remembers a conversation with another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1,000 kudos! Thanks you guys!
> 
> If you can't tell by now, I do not know the meaning of "update schedule." This one is a little awkward, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but it's more of a transition piece. Let me know what you think; that comments are jealous that hits has +1,000 and they have only 4. Help 'em out?

After so much preparation, the trip home was almost anticlimactic. Three days was not much time, and between doctor's visits, official paperwork, and Howard Stark poking his nose into everything, the only time Peggy and Steve had together was when they went to sleep at night. Unfortunately, prophylactics were not in abundant supply (Peggy would never forget the color that Steve’s face turned every time he asked a doctor), and Howard’s offer to his stash only made his mustache droop in disappointment.

“I don't understand,” he cried. “What do you mean, they ‘don’t fit’?”

“They're too small, Howard,” Peggy said to her friend, making Steve collapse in a fit of laughter. “Steve’s just more… well endowed than you.”

“Unbelievable.”

Unbelievable or not, Peggy and Steve took the time to learn more about each other, and mainly their bodies. They learned that yes, teasing Steve for too long could make him actually break the bed frame, and that no matter how hard they tried, Peggy was physically incapable to being quiet during her release. “You're more than welcome to try, my darling,” she said as a consolation.

Their conversation on their marriage was on the front of Peggy’s mind on their separate trips back to the States.

 

_“Are we actually going through with this?” Steve's voice broke through the peaceful quiet of their room._

_“We already kind of did, darling. It is all a bit crazy, isn't it?” she murmured, her fingers drawing idle patterns over his chest._

_“Crazier than old-me turning into this-me?” Steve asked, motioning to his body._

_“We’ve known each other a few years, that's it.”_

_“Stranger things have happened. A lot of people marry after just knowing someone a few months.”_

_His response made Peggy sit up. “But are we doing the right thing? How well do we even know each other, Steve? What’s my birthday?”_

_“You're the one being crazy now, Peg. And it's August 20, 1921.”_

_“Damn your photographic memory,” she sighed. “That’s not what I mean.”_

_“It's not crazy, Peggy. We fought in a war together, remember?”_

_“Knowing that you're willing to jump on a dummy grenade or that you can't fly a plane isn't the same thing as knowing if you can cook or if you leave your socks all over the house or—”_

_Steve silenced her with a kiss._

_“That's not always going to work, Captain Rogers,” she warned, although most of the fight had gone out of her._

__“Yes, Mrs. Rogers. And to answer your questions: I_ can _cook, a great deal better than you. My Ma and Mother Barnes made sure of that; and I don't leave my socks on the floor, but I have the horrible habit of letting dishes pile up, which drove Bucky crazy when we lived together.”_ _

_She decided not to bring attention to the fact that it was the first time Steve brought up Bucky without immediately becoming downcast. “And everything else?” she asked._

_“Everything else we can figure out together.”_

 

“Man with a plan indeed,” she muttered to herself. Steve was lucky enough to travel with Stark on a private plane, meaning Peggy was relegated to public transportation. Howard had been ‘generous’ enough to offer Jarvis’ services to compensate, and that was how Peggy found herself sneaking into her apartment.

_“Peggy?”_

Well, trying, at least.

“Hello, Colleen.”

“Peggy!” The blonde woman caught her up in a hug. “I didn’t know you were back. You should have phoned me! How’s your brother?”

“Michael is just fine now, thank you." She swallowed against the knot in her throat. "Colleen, may I introduce you to Edwin Jarvis, my... colleague.”

“A pleasure, Miss O’Brien,” Jarvis said, bending over her hand.

“Hi.” She coughed. “Can I get you a cup of coffee? Peg, I didn’t know when you were coming back. I can go ahead and leave...”

“Oh no, Colleen, please. I’ll make some coffee. Are you ill?”

Colleen sat down and explained that much had changed in the month that Peggy had been gone. Most women’s jobs were in jeopardy, with so many veterans coming home from the war. More and more were being let go, and Colleen knew her time was almost up. “And now I have this horrible cough which will surely turn into tuberculosis. Sometimes I think I should go back to New Rochelle. Less GIs go there; New York is just too big.”

“About that, Colleen—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Peggy. I’m not going to just up and leave you.”

Peggy had to smile at that. “Actually, I’m afraid I’m the one leaving you.”

Colleen’s eyes went wide and she looked towards Jarvis. “Are you two—?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Peggy snapped as Jarvis turned bright red, coughing “I’m very happily married already, Miss O’Brien, thank you.”

“Sorry,” Colleen apologized, looking back at Peggy. “Then what’s going on?”

Peggy spun her story, how her brother was moving to New York and that she was going to help take care of his children since his wife was deathly ill. The cover story ended up taking an unexpected turn to the dramatic, and Peggy found herself with an armful of Colleen sobbing into her shoulder. “There, there,” she tried, attempting to calm Colleen down.

“I’m sorry, but it’s just so heartbreaking…”

“I’m sure Lila will recover just fine,” Peggy said, mentally hoping her brother would not find a way to come back from the dead to tease her for the lie.

Peggy’s cover did its job, and within the hour she was waving goodbye to her friend, who waved back from their once-shared window.

* * *

 

“Your friend was quite…”

“Hysterical?”

“I was going to say compassionate, but I suppose that works as well,” Jarvis acquiesced as they drove into Manhattan.

“Steve and I seem to have a talent with choosing ‘compassionate’ friends,” Peggy smiled.

It was true. The Commandos had shown up two days after Steve had woken up. There had been a lot of rejoicing, a lot of cursing, and more crying than Peggy had seen in her life.

 

_“I can’t believe it,” Dugan yelled again, wiping at his cheeks. “I look at you and I still can’t believe it.”_

_“Hopefully the enemy won’t either,” Steve laughed, hugging Dugan tightly. “It’ll make it easier to take them down.”_

_“Wait,” Morita said, looking up from the bottle of scotch in his hand. “What are you saying, Cap?”_

_“He’s saying that he’s coming back, aren’t you?” Falsworth cried._

_“I am.”_

_Cheers erupted and the bottles, in varying degrees of emptiness, circulated the room again. Peggy slipped out to take a breath, and notify the staff that a few rooms should be set up for the Commandos. She was interrupted on her way back by Dugan._

_He handed her a bottle of whiskey. “How are you holding up, Peg?”_

_“I’m doing well, Dugan.”_

_He gave her the same look he used to give Barnes when he hid an injury from Steve, that he knew what was going on and he wasn’t going to tell, but ‘you’d better talk to me, at least.’_

_“I’m fine, Dugan.”_

_“Yeah, fine with going along with being married to Cap and him going off and continuing the war effort, and you’re stuck at home with assholes making you play secretary.”_

_She nearly spat out the whiskey. “Bloody hell, Dugan!”_

_“Tell me I’m wrong.”_

_Peggy sighed and took another swig of the bottle. “Shut up.”_

_“Peg, I’m just worried about you. We all are.”_

_“Because I’m a woman?”_

_“Because you’re our friend. You’re one of us; don’t think I didn’t give Jones and Pinky this same talk when they wanted to go quit.”_

_“Jones and Pinky are Howlers.”_

_“So are you. I talked to Phillips about it; he said there’s nothing to stop you from joining the team officially if you want. You have a great service record; you already went on several missions with us; you know how we work. You’re a goddamn war hero!”_

_“I’m not a hero, Dugan,” she snapped. “Stop trying to make this into something it’s not.”_

_“Will you at least think about it? Why do you even want to stay with the SSR anyway?”_

_Peggy managed to stop herself from snapping back, but she still glared at Dugan until he rolled his eyes._

_“Fine.”_

_They went back to the room, letting the sounds of conversation and stories wash away the tension they’d brought back with them. Steve seemed to know that something was wrong, because he asked the moment she sat down. “Are you ok?”_

_She barely responded with a terse ‘fine’ before one of the boys swept him away again._

_Peggy tried to lose herself in the mood, but Dugan’s words were still in her mind. He was only trying to look out for her, out of concern and caring. She had no reason to bite his head off; it was merely the stress of having to return to New York in 20 hours made her more short-tempered than normal. But his question nagged in her head; even after everyone went off to bed, after she apologized to Dugan and he accepted with a hug, all anger forgotten, after she was snuggled into Steve’s side after he drifted off to sleep, she realized that she didn’t have an answer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click that button! Comment!!!! Let me know what you think!!! Or at least tell me to stop overusing the exclamation points!!!!!!


	10. This Bed is Big Enough for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Steve have taken Howard up on his offer of a house. More smut ahead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this much earlier, but life. It's a tad longer, to make up for it. Also, thank you so much for the comments! I realize I got my hits and kudos mixed up *blushes*. Ten comments! Yay! Enjoy!

Peggy was broken out of her thoughts by Jarvis. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, helping Peggy carry her things out of the car. It wasn't much, considering Peggy had not broken her military habits and everything fit into two small boxes and a single suitcase. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy said, trying not to wince. Even though Howard swore he hardly used the property and they wouldn't be living in the same house, ‘home’ wasn't a phrase Peggy was thrilled with. 

“Mr. Stark should bring Captain Rogers by in a few hours. In the meantime, would you like a tour of the house?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

Twenty minutes later, Peggy swore that she would move out the moment she could find a flat. “When Howard mentioned he was letting us use one of his properties, I didn't think that he was offering a mansion.”

“Oh, not a mansion, Miss Carter. This is one of his smallest houses.”

“Small? Mr. Jarvis, we just passed three bedrooms and a formal dining room.”

“The informal dining room is quite cozy.”

Peggy sighed and helped herself to a few grapes gracing a nearby table. “Mr. Jarvis, Steve and I are soldiers. We come from small homes, from sharing tents with multiple people… I really do think we would be more comfortable in a flat of our own.”

“I'm afraid that is an issue you will need to take up with Mr. Stark. He's already fantasizing about being godfather to your future children.”

“Any hypothetical children would be the business of Steve and myself,” Peggy cried. The thought of creating a family with Steve jumped unbidden to her mind and she missed Jarvis’ answer, leaving her to follow him to the master bedroom. 

“Are you sure you can't be tempted to stay?” 

If there was something to be said for Howard Stark, it was that the bedroom was his element. Dark Russian sable made up the large, four-poster bed, and Peggy sank down in the soft mattress with a sigh. “Maybe just until we can get all of Steve’s business sorted out,” she allowed, ready to fall asleep. 

“I gathered as much, Miss Carter,” Jarvis said. “Would you care for a quick nap?”

She moaned and picked herself off the bed. “No, I can wait for Steve.” She walked over to her boxes and unpacked her clothes. “I think I'll just put some things up.”

Jarvis was too slow to warn her, and she opened the wardrobe to reveal a large collection of skimpy, lacy, and (a few downright strange) feminine clothing items. “On occasion, Mr. Stark likes to add a bit of drama to his romantic endeavors,” Jarvis tried to explain. 

Peggy wrinkled her nose at the doctor’s robe. “How thoughtful of him to leave this behind.” 

Jarvis excused himself to retrieve some boxes to pack up the role-playing costumes, leaving Peggy with the wardrobe. She found herself picking through the clothes, muttering curses at Howard under her breath. Her fingers skimmed over the fabrics, lingering on a few sets of lingerie that were more tasteful than the rest. 

By the time Jarvis came back, she had all the clothing folded at the foot of her bed. If a few items never made it to the box, and were later found under the pillows, that was entirely her business. 

***

Jarvis was kind enough to let her unpack alone. Kind was a bit of a stretch, as she may have threatened him with physically removing him from the room if he touched her things. The result was that after Peggy hung up her dresses and stored her tactical gear, she gave in to the soft comfort of the bed. 

She was awakened by a soft laugh across the room. “I will shoot,” she growled into her pillow. 

Footsteps let her know that the person walked to the bed, and the mattress dipped under the weight of her mystery guest. “Will you let me grab my shield first?”

Peggy released one hand from her pillow to reach behind her. A large, warm hand met hers and she felt herself relax. “Hello, my darling.”

Steve curled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hi, Peggy.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and her skin burned under her clothes. 

“I didn't mean to fall asleep,” she whined, turning over to face him. 

“A nap sounds like the best idea in the world, Peg. I think you're a genius.”

“Long day with Howard?” she asked, bringing her fingers up to run through his hair. 

His propped himself up on one elbow. His gaze said a thousand things, but his mouth only said one. “Nothing a quick kip with my girl won't fix.”

Peggy felt the sleep burn off in a flash of desire. “You have me in this deliciously luxurious bed, Captain Rogers. Is a nap the only thing you had in mind?”

“We have an invitation to dinner in thirty minutes, Mrs. Rogers.” His smile made shivers race down her back. “It'll have to be a very quick nap.”

“The fastest one of your life, love.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him down to smash her lips against hers. Deft fingers popped buttons on both his clothes and hers, and within moments the press of skin on skin made them hiss in unison. “Steve, please…”

“Anything for you, Peggy.” Steve's time with the USO tour had taught him many things; the best might have been how the chorus girls managed to change from one outfit to another in seconds. His hands were light on her body, unbuckling her belt, peeling her dress off, lifting her shift over her head. In a heartbeat he was loosening her girdle and unfastening her brassiere. 

“Door?” She panted. 

“Closed.”

“Locked?”

“Dammit.” He flew off the bed and threw the lock on the door, nearly tripping as he kicked off his shoes and peeled his undershirt off at the same time. 

“Eager, soldier?” Peggy asked, pushing the covers and her clothes to the foot of the bed. 

“I just can't believe that this is real,” he said, stripping off his socks. 

Peggy knelt at the edge of the bed, naked except for her stockings and knickers. Her nails trailed down Steve’s chest, his abdomen, before coming to rest at his pants. “You better believe it, sweetheart. I'm real.”

“You're real,” he agreed, helping her shuck off the last of his clothes before literally jumping back into the bed. Peggy bounced, startling a laugh out of her, and Steve joined in heartily as they fell back into each other. 

It was a familiar game of kisses and nips, feather-like strokes and hard grips on tender skin. Peggy dug her hands into Steve’s hair, moaning as her mouth opened under his assault. He was dominating her lips, but she wrapped her leg around his waist in return. He kneeled over her, digging his knees into the mattress as she sank her heels into the fullness of his arse. She freed her mouth long enough to nibble on his earlobe, and the groan that left his mouth made the fire between her legs burn hotter. Her knickers were still sadly in place, not that they did much to hold back her arousal. Between the two of them, they got the soaked panties off her and thrown far from the bed. She flipped them, so she was on top, and made certain her core was lightly brushing against his erection. “Peggy, please,” he gasped. 

Peggy bent back, making Steve groan again as she inadvertently spread herself open for him.  Her hands landed on her dress, and she fumbled for the prophylactic she’d stored in one of her pockets. “Time to suit up, soldier.”

She slapped it into Steve’s hand, and he wasted no time in ripping the packet open. The way he stoked himself a few times, priming his cock for the condom, did more for Peggy than she could ever say. He held his breath as he slid the rubber on, sighing with relief as he reached for Peggy. 

“I hope you have more where that came from, because I'm going to come embarrassingly fast.”

“I have plenty more, my love,” she whispered, not able to contain her delight as Steve picked her up and sat her properly in his lap. He carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather, and Peggy made a mental note to test the usefulness of that particular skill at a later time. For now, she straddled Steve and took his length in her hands. “Ready?”

“Always.”

She braced herself and lowered her body into his, easing down onto his cock. She hadn't been joshing Howard; Steve was large, and thick, and she had to keep pulling off him as she got used to his girth. 

“Doll, you're killin’ me,” Steve groaned, digging his hands into her hips so hard the bruises would stay for a week. 

“You couldn't be average, could you?” she whined, forcing herself to relax. “It's not as easy as it looks.”

“I think you're making it harder than it needs to be,” he muttered. There was a pause, then Steve’s exact wording hit them both at the same time, and they fell to pieces. The laughter relaxed Peggy, and she managed to drop the last inch down to the hilt. She sat heavily against his hips and tried to breathe through the fullness inside her. “God dammit, Steve,” she gasped. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, running his hands over Peggy’s thighs, forcing himself to stay still. “Oh,  _ fuck, Peggy!” _

“This may put a bit of a damper on my plans for surprise sex,” she admitted cheekily. “You taking me up against the wall may have to wait.”

Steve gently slid her off him a few inches, levering his arms and holding her in the air. “Peggy, shut up.”

“Sorry,” she huffed, trailing her nails down his arms. “My mental filter seems to be broken.”

“Doll, unless you want me to blow my load right now, we are going to need to wait a few rounds.”

She felt him bucking up a little, working himself into her just a bit. “Eager, Stevie?” she giggled. 

“If you're laughing, I must be doing something wrong,” he groaned, bracing his feet on the bed. “Just please tell me you're ready, sweetheart.”

Peggy pulled herself off him, moaning at his groan as she slipped free and lay down beside him. “Very ready.”

He was on top of her in a flash, mouth pressed hard against hers. Peggy spread her legs wide, pulling Steve’s hips closer to her own. One hand gripped his hardness, slick with her arousal. She held herself open with her free hand, helping him work himself back inside. Her breathing was erratic, flitting from deep breaths to sharp gasps; Steve swallowed them all, sinking deeper and deeper into her. Her hands went to his back, fingernails digging into his back as he finally entered her completely.

Steve’s breath warmed her ear as he held himself still. “Peggy, you feel so good.”

She clenched tight around him and he instinctively bucked his hips, startling a cry from her.  _ “Steve!” _

“I'm sorry!” She felt him about to pull out, so Peggy wrapped her legs around him and shoved him back in. 

“If you stop, I'm going to kill you,” she growled. “Now, show me what you can do.”

If she could have seen his face, pressed into the pillow under her head, she would have seen his lips curling up in response. She could imagine it, however, and she felt his grip around her tighten. “Trying to challenge me, ma'am?” he crooned in her ear, making her shiver. 

“We have a dinner to get to, Captain,” she smirked. “Are you going to take care of your girl, first?”

“With pleasure,” was all he said before lifting her legs higher around his hips and sliding out of her, only to thrust back in again. Her back lifted off the bed, head thrown back as pleasure made her toes curl. Steve wasn't rough with her, cognizant that he was large enough to hurt her by accident, but she could not call it gentle. 

His length was thick enough to burn every time he moved in and out of her, and then he pushed up to his knees, lifting her hips off the bed, searching to something Peggy knew most people had no idea existed. He managed to hit in just the right spot, and she nearly screamed from the pleasure. One hand released her, fingers slicking up with her own juices before brushing against her clitoris.  _ “Steve!” _

“You feel so good, Peggy.”

_ “Steve…”  _ She wanted to tell him to go faster, to go harder, to fuck her into the damn mattress already, but she could only call his name. Her fingers rubbed between her legs, desperate for the last bit of attention that would push her over the edge. 

“Peggy, I'm going to—” Steve reached his climax first, his hips going mad as he mindlessly humped his orgasm out. His grip on her slipped, bending Peggy backwards a bit more and that was enough to send her reeling. 

Heat and pleasure washed through her, making it impossible to hear anything but Steve’s heavy panting in her ear. The panting gradually formed words she recognized, like ‘love you’ and ‘beautiful’ and ‘Peggy.’ She managed to wrap her legs back around Steve’s hips to keep him from pulling out. The movement made little aftershocks run through her, mini-orgasms that made her jaw pop from opening it so wide. 

“Peggy.” Steve’s voice finally managed to cut through the haze of pleasure. “Peggy, if you keep that up I'm going to need another condom.”

She blinked slowly as the fog lifted. “What…?”

“You're beautiful.” Steve pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and Peggy would have melted into a puddle of she wasn't one already. “Will you let me go?”

“If you must,” she sighed. The lack of Steve inside her made her feel empty, although there would certainly be an ache later to remediate that. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve shucked off the condom—easily disposed of in the wastebasket next to the bed, thank you Howard—and pulled a fresh one out of Peggy’s dress pocket. “We're you serious about that second round?”

“Think you can hold out a bit longer?” Peggy teased, shifting as the blood became circulating through her legs again. “Not bad for a first time, soldier.”

“Think you can make me better?” Steve grinned. 

“It may take a while. Life commitment and all that.”

“I volunteer, then. Orders, ma'am?”

“I'm starting to understand the appeal that fancy dress had on Howard. I wouldn't mind you in your uniform,” she smirked. “Your Army one did give me some ideas.”

“Howard in… what?!”

“I'll explain it to you later,” Peggy laughed softly as she worked the rubber down onto Steve’s still impressive erection. “I swiped a couple of—”

“Captain Rogers? Agent Carter?” The shout from the door made them jump. “Dinner is served, if you wish to join!” The sound of feet racing away was audible even through the door, and Peggy felt a little bad for Jarvis. 

“Poor Mr. Jarvis,” she crooned. 

“I think he's used to it, the way Howard behaves.”

“So, Captain Rogers, what is your plan?”

**“We can always eat something later, Mrs. Rogers.” The end of his sentence was overshadowed by a roar emanating from his stomach, and Peggy nearly laughed herself off the bed. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it? Don't like it? Dinner is up next!


	11. Cleaning Up the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Howard and Jarvis. Very brief naughtiness at the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not like this chapter, but I needed to post it so I could move on. Lemme know what you think. Next one will make up for it, I butterfly.

“I can always suck you off.”

Steve’s fingers slipped off the rubber, making it pinch back around his dick. “Dammit, Peggy!”

“Is that a no?”

“They're going to think we're depraved.” He groaned as she climbed back over him. “Sex maniacs.”

“We're newlyweds, sweetheart. It's part of the definition.”

Steve chucked as Peggy pulled the rubber back down properly. “Wanna do that thing where we…?” His hands nudged her off his erection, picking her up around the hips and turning her in mid air so she was straddling his face.

“Depraved sex maniacs,” she huffed as he licked up into her.

“Tell me I'm wrong,” he said into her lower lips.

She pulled him into her mouth instead. They were still primed from their earlier bout, and it was a quick finish for both of them. Condoms made cleanup a lot easier, and Steve was back in his clothes in no time. Peggy, on the other hand…

“I don't want to be one of those wives that demands new things, but you owe me undergarments, Rogers.”

“Yes ma'am,” he said, collecting the clothes that had been scattered around. He held out a fresh set of everything, but to his surprise, she only took the dress.

“No point if we're just continuing this after dinner,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“A-a-and your, your uh—”

She pushed his hand with the undergarments down, smiling as she did so. “I believe I said, _we'll continue.”_ She flipped her hair back and walked barefoot from the bedroom, hips swaying as she went. She didn't have to look back to know Steve was staring after her with a struck expression on his face.

***

“Good to know you still have it, Peg,” were the first words out of Howard’s mouth as she sat down at the table, Steve only moments behind.

“You do not know what I have, Howard, and I prefer to keep it that way,” she said primly as Jarvis handed her a warm plate. “Thank you.”

Jarvis’ “you’re welcome” was drowned out by Howard. “How did you like the bed? Comfortable, isn’t it? Perfect for fonduing, eh Rogers?”

Steve nearly spit out his wine. “Howard!”

“What? It is. The amount of entertaining I’ve done in there should be proof enough.”

As one, Steve and Peggy turned to Jarvis. “Everything was cleaned completely,” the butler answered. “I promise.”

Dinner was an extensive, albeit informal affair. The new inhabitants weren’t even wearing shoes, which was the point that allowed Peggy to force Jarvis into sitting down and tucking in with them. “We ate the same way on base, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Very well,” Jarvis sniffed, passing a dish of green beans to Steve. He helped himself, but instead of offering some to Peggy, he handed it across to Howard.

Howard decided to be observant for once. “You’re not going to offer some to Peggy?”

“I don’t like green beans,” Peggy said.

“Her brother Michael tricked her into thinking they were troll fingers when she was younger, so she can’t eat them anymore,” Steve answered mindlessly, diving into some potatoes.

“You never told me that,” Howard said.

Peggy froze in her seat. “I never told you that,” she said slowly. “I never told anyone.”

That made him pause. “Yes, you did.”

_“When?”_

“Uh…” His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “I… I’m not sure. But you must have told me. How else would I know?”

“You must have told him sometime, Peggy,” Howard rationed. “Maybe you’re memory’s starting to go.”

“Shut up, Howard.” Peggy said, pouring herself more wine before Jarvis could let his butlering instincts take over. “My senses are as sharp as ever.”

The dinner conversation resumed, but Peggy was still a bit wary. She knew she had never told a single soul what had happened with the green beans. She preferred to choke them down or skip the meal entirely if she couldn’t avoid them.

Talk went from the food, to restaurants, to some of Howard’s latest conquests. “But Jeanne Hesser, I tell you. Kind of feel bad for William Forester, missing such a great—”

“William Forester?” Steve interrupted. “The actor who made _Mr. Right_ and _Ask My Cheating Husband_?”

“He had a type, am I right?”

“Didn’t he die a couple of months ago?”

It was Howard’s turn to look confused. “Buddy, you’ve been frozen for four months and been awake three days. When the hell did anybody tell you about William Forester?”

“But I…”

The answer came to Peggy as a gasp. “It was me.”

“You told me Forester died?”

“I also did tell you about the green beans.”

“I told you, Carter,” Howard scoffed.

“I told you while you were asleep.” That made them all freeze.

Jarvis was the first to speak. “I think now is a good time to liberate some of Mr. Stark’s whiskey.”

“I used to talk to Steve while he was in his coma,” Peggy explained. “I told him stories of my childhood, some of my earlier missions, current event, things he missed…”

“But he heard you,” Howard whispered. “He heard what you said and remembered it.”

“ _He_ is right here,” Steve said firmly. “I don’t understand.”

“You were unconscious for a long time, Steve, “ Howard explained. “We couldn’t wake you up. We couldn’t get your body to react to anything: temperature changes; pricking you with a needle; loud sounds—”

“I’ve been trying to forget that part, thank you, Howard,” Peggy glowered.

“The point is, you heard what she said. That sound was stored in your head, Rogers. Do you understand what this means?”

“Please no more tests,” Peggy groaned into her hands. Jarvis helpfully pulled one free and placed a decanter into it.

“People in comas can hear sound! They can understand it! There’s never been definitive scientific proof, but maybe—”

“Howard,” Steve interrupted, “was that just because of the serum?”

Howard’s face immediately fell. “I don’t know. It might be, but then we’d need to run some more tests—”

“You’re not putting him in another coma!” Peggy nearly shouted. “He barely woke up from the last one.”

“Yes,” Steve said quickly. “I’d prefer to avoid comas, please.”

“For science!”

“Howard,” Steve said, not unkindly. “Think about this. Yes, the serum could have done a lot of things. But the formula died with Dr. Erskine, Howard.”

“We can recreate it,” he argued. “We just have to try and see if by studying the serum in you—”

“No, Howard.” Steve was firm. “Erskine was the only one that knew the serum and that’s the way it should stay. Remember what happened with Schmidt. He wanted the serum, too.”

That seemed to bring Howard back to his senses. “Oh. Yeah. Of course. Sorry, you know how I get with the science…”

“No harm done,” Steve smiled. “Anyway, you were saying about Jeanne Hesser…?”

***

Dinner conversation was a stilted for a while, but Howard’s whiskey did the trick and soon everything was forgotten in a slight haze of alcohol. Jarvis, who was more that used to Howard’s ways, knew better than to imbibe and carted his employer off with an ease that bespoke practice. The serum didn’t let Steve get drunk, but Peggy had a very high tolerance herself, and thus it was a comfortable atmosphere that greeted them in the bedroom.

“I am quite relieved that Mr. Jarvis cleaned this bed before we…”

“Fondued?” Steve suggested.

Peggy laughed, sinking into the bed. “I never thought you would think of fondue as anything other than bread and cheese.”

“I’m from Brooklyn, sweetheart. We don’t have fondue. And living with Bucky means I know more phrases for ‘making time’ than anything else.”

“Oh?” Peggy propped herself up on an elbow, watching Steve get out of his clothes. “And would you care to show your verbal prowess to your wife?”

Steve’s head popped up with almost comedic speed. “Seriously?”

She giggled and sat up properly. “Is that a no?”

“Some might not be appropriate for a lady’s ears,” he huffed in a remarkable impression of Colonel Phillips.

“But Carter is more man than any of you ladies,” she barked back, quoting one of Phillip’s first insults to SSR recruits.

Steve laughed. “As you wish. I remember one terrible time he asked a girl if she wanted to play his skin flute.”

Peggy screeched and covered her mouth. “What did she do?”

“Kicked him in the yoyos.”

That made her laugh. “How romantic. What else?”

“He offered to clean up one young lady’s kitchen.”

Peggy frowned. “Clean…” Steve coughed and glanced at Peggy’s crossed legs. “Oh. I supposed he said he had a large appetite.”

“Said he had a tonsil tickler and he didn’t mind a lady going way down south in Dixie.”

Peggy tried not to gag. “Bloody Norah! And women actually took him up on his offers?”

“He had to modify his technique after we turned seventeen or so. Then he talked about ‘walks through the park’ or ‘private dancing lessons.’”

“Smoother,” she allowed grimly. “I think I can understand how you might have been confused by the fondue, then.”

“Glad I could make up for it,” he said, slipping into bed next to her.

“Something tells me your technique may also have something to do with James,” she said pulling him down for a kiss.

“I don’t really want to talk about Bucky anymore,” he said after they pulled away. “And you don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Peg,”

“Care to convince me?” she whispered as he unbuttoned her dress.

“Gladly.” Peggy made a mental note to pick up some flowers for James’ grave the next time she visited. For the time being, she devoted herself to making the most of Steve’s time with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot take credit for the slang. That is all thanks to the lovely Steve Rogers is Historically Accurate on Tumblr. That link is right here: http://historicallyaccuratesteve.tumblr.com/post/94272043846/a-guide-to-talking-dirty-throughout-history
> 
> Agent Carter tonight! Dude! What awesomeness awaits!


	12. Please Don't Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy say goodbye and go back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is an update schedule? Can someone show me how to get my writing to adhere to one?  
> On that note: slight smuttiness at the beginning, you have been warned.

Peggy woke up to still-dark room and a still-warm husband wrapped around her. She breathed a sigh of relief and sank back into Steve’s arms. They'd been up late making the most of their time together, until even Steve’s serum-enhanced body called it a night. She refused to admit it, but part of her had been terrified that she would wake up and Steve would be gone.

 _‘Because he will be,’_ said a little voice in her head. Peggy’s heart sank because it was true. Steve was shipping out to Washington, staying long enough to shake a few hands and take a few pictures, before being sent out to Europe again. Peggy knew she didn't have to be afraid. Against all odds, he'd survived the war; he'd come back to her. But he was leaving again and she’d grown used to having him with her, able to see that he was safe.

She refused to recall the number of times she’d woken throughout their nights together, jarring awake and panicking until she saw him next to her. What would happen when he was gone again? If he didn’t return? She forced herself to breathe and focus on the present moment. He was safe, and still snoozing under the blankets. Her fears hadn’t touched him; he looked at peace, and Peggy knew that Europe was anything but peaceful, even postwar. She wanted to give him something to remember, to keep him warm during the cold winter nights, and she slipped under the blankets.

A soft, trailing hand made his legs fall open, and she nudged them far apart enough to rest between them. She pressed kisses up his legs, where his thighs met his torso, tickling the hair that grew well below his navel. He moaned in his sleep and opened himself up even more. Peggy took his hands and threaded them through her hair, letting him grip it in his dreams. She lapped down his length, memories of just hours ago fueling her desire. She opened her mouth and sucked up his length, knowing that a hint of teeth was enough to make his toes curl  She looked down… There they were.

There was a smile on her lips as she slipped the tip into her mouth, tongue knowing exactly where to press as she squeezed him with her hands. She drew it out, his pants and groans enough to make her drip before finally working him over the edge. She swallowed, licking up where he'd spilled over in her hands. She was ready to get him up again when the blankets over her head disappeared. “Peggy?”

“Expecting someone else?” she teased, letting her nails dig into the flesh of his arse.

“Never.” He drew her back up his body until his mouth could reach hers. He kissed her hungrily, his whole body pressing up into hers until she could feel his love to her core. “That was a wonderful thing to wake up to, love. May I return the favor?”

“Please,” she whimpered, gasping for air. He turned them over, letting her sink into the mattress as he sank into her, lips and tongue sending her over the edge in a series of well-practiced moves. He pressed on, literally and figuratively, rubbing her gently but insistently though another two orgasms before she finally cried out for him to stop.

Steve rested his head on her stomach, fingers stroking up and down her body as she recovered her breath. “I love you,” he said, pressing kisses to her skin. “You have no idea how much.”

“Please, Steve.” Her voice came out broken, and suddenly the wetness on her face made sense. “Please come back.”

“Always for you, Peggy. I'll always make my way back to you.”

She tugged him upward until she could nestle herself under him. “Make love to me, darling,” she whispered, and he did. It was unhurried, messy, tender love, and her tears were salty on her tongue as the mingled with Steve’s. She arched upwards as she came, hot come flooding her cunt as Steve found his own release. They'd forgotten the condom, but at that moment Peggy found herself falling into the mindset of all the wives that shipped their husbands off to war. She prayed, just for a moment, that Steve would leave her something of his, a piece of himself, in case he didn't return a second time. The thoughts stayed, even through the wave of pleasure that washed over them both, and she cried.

***

Both Peggy and Steve decided to not talk about what had happened that morning. Steve, likely because he thought his actions were enough, and Peggy because she wanted to regain control of herself. She’d been insane that morning, she'd reasoned, falling back into the stereotype of woman she’d been long before the war ever started. But Peggy had sworn to herself that she would never be so weak again, and forced herself to regain control.

Steve was packed and ready to go, but he and Peggy dragged their lovemaking out as long as they could, until Jarvis came to collect them. He kindly refrained from mentioning Peggy’s red eyes, and Steve’s worried face. He drove them, stone-faced, down to the airfield, forcing his gaze to stick to the road. Their goodbyes were low, too low for him to hear, but the few times his eyes looked through the rear-view mirror, he could only see their hands clasped between them.

They arrived all too quickly at the airfield, and Jarvis stayed by the car.

Peggy had dried her eyes enough on the ride over, but there was no way she could bring down the red in her eyes. Howard opened his mouth, and closed it again. He turned to Steve, instead. “You ready, Rogers?”

“No, but I’m going anyway.”

Howard looked back at the plane and the uniformed men ambling in front of the ramp. “I can give you a couple of minutes, so you can say goodbye.”

“We’ve done our goodbyes,” Peggy said firmly.

“A couple minutes, Peg.” He left, leaving her standing with Steve.

“Don’t want to say goodbye again?” Steve asked, trying to joke.

The laugh caught in her throat. “If I say it again, I’ll start crying again.” She sniffed, trying to keep her composure.

“Can’t have that, sweetheart,” he said. He took her hand in his and stood so he could block her from the military’s view. “I’ll be back, I swear. Sooner than you think, remember? We’re all taking turns so we can be home every so often.”

“This is stupid,” she huffed. “You’re a soldier. I was a soldier. There’s nothing to cry about.”

“Your boys know better than let anything happen to me. I will come back, Peg.”

“You better, Rogers.” Her arms went around his neck against her will, and she melted as he hugged her. The tears were threatening to spill over, but he kept them away.

Howard came back to them, and Peggy waved as Steve walked to the plane. “No kiss?” Howard asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“The last time I kissed him and he got on a plane, he ended up in a block of ice.”

“He’ll be back, Peg.”

Steve waved back, and then he was gone. They waited until the plane disappeared into the sky, and then Peggy got back in the car.

“What now, Mrs. Rogers?” Jarvis asked.

“Now I go to work.”

 

* * *

 

“About time you came back!” Wosser spat at her as she crossed the threshold into the office.

Peggy put her case down on her desk and turned to face the chief. “I apologize for the extended leave, sir, but the Commandos needed my decoding skills.”

“Stupid, if they couldn’t crack it themselves. Are they going to request your _skills_ anytime soon?” he sneered.

It was easy to glare at the man. “The job is finished. It is unlikely they will _request_ me again.”

Wosser snapped a few more things at her before finally letting her go.

She took a deep breath and looked down at her desk, overflowing with files and rogue papers.

“It seems my ‘vacation’ wasn’t taken seriously,” she muttered.

A steady, faint thumping sounded behind her. “Welcome back, Peg.”

“Hello, Daniel.” She turned and faced the one person in the office that she could possibly imagine as a potential friend. “How are you?”

“Having a better time than you, I think.” He frowned at her face. “Are you ok, Peg? You look—?”

“If you say ‘tired,’ Daniel, I will be able to assure you that you will have a significantly more difficult time trying to find a girlfriend.”

“You offering to set me up?” He laughed, but it sounded stiff.

“Well, my friend Angie is always complaining about the men in her life. You’re a perfect gentleman, when you’re not telling women they look ‘tired.’”

“I was going to say ‘upset.’”

“Not much of an improvement.” She sat down and started sorting through the paperwork.

“Are you sure you’re doing ok, Peggy?”

She was too tired to put up with mother-henning, especially at 0900 hours. “The last couple of weeks have been quite intense. Nothing a few days of titillating SSR work won’t improve.” She waved her hands over the files. “Unless you need something, Daniel?”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just shook his head. “Just thought you’d wanna know that someone passed the word that Wosser keeps bottles of whiskey in his filing cabinets.”

“Oh? And was that tied to the beating he attempted to give the Federal employee that visited us a few weeks ago?”

“Good to have you back, Peg.”

Sousa shuffled away, but not ten minutes later he was replaced by a face Peggy was really starting to hate. “Hello, Marge.”

“Agent Thompson.” She swallowed a sigh.

“Enjoy your vacation?”

“Splendid, Agent. Makes me wonder why I even wanted to leave this glorious office.”

“Interesting you should mention that, Carter, because I’m pretty sure the Chief’s not letting anyone out of the field after your quick mission was turned into a two-week vacation.”

“If there are any complaints, I could forward you the contact information of the Howling Commandos.”

“I’m pretty sure your past paramour wouldn’t want you sharing his info.”

She stiffened at his words, and made sure hers were cuttingly cold. “I can assure you, Agent Thompson, I do not have a past paramour.”

“Whatever you say, Carter.” He walked away, only pausing to throw a “see ya” over his shoulder.

The day was long, and Peggy had blissfully forgotten how much she hated paperwork. Filing, typing forms, lunch runs… She wished the busy work was a enticing for her mind as it was for her hands, but she kept thinking about Steve, about his flight, about the Commandos meeting him for his first mission.

It was stupid, worrying about him that way, Her mother had worried less when Michael was sent to boarding school. Steve was not a child. He was soldier, and a damn good one. He could take care of himself. He would be fine. And she would be… working.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The downside of this post? Took my over a week to finish up this chapter.
> 
> The upside of this post? I have the next one almost done!


	13. Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve misses Valentine's Day and Peggy misses Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no excuses for not uploading. To attempt compensation, here's three chapters in one go.

Working was horrible. Peggy wasn’t pregnant—her courses came a week after Steve was gone, but she found herself grateful for it—although that would have gone a long way in explaining her mood. 

She found herself unable to sleep at night. Her nightmares of the war, which had gotten replaced with nightmares of Steve while he was gone, returned with a vengeance. She knew it couldn’t be shell shock, because she was able to get up and walk and work like normal. But she wished there was some explanation for the tension in her shoulders, the headaches that plagued her during work, the trouble she had breathing on occasion.

It seemed to get a bit better when Steve managed to phone her after he’d been gone almost a month. He’d worked a couple of missions with his men, and they were taking a single day’s rest before going to the third. They’d talked only a few minutes, but what followed was the best night’s sleep she’d had since she’d been gone. It had gone downhill again, but at least she knew there was a remedy for her moods.

Time passed slowly, and 1946 promised to be a tedious year. Chief Tosser was replaced by Chief Dooley, who, while not the most sexist man Peggy had ever met, was not the most appreciative of her skills. Dooley made it very clear that he thought Peggy was out of her mind to keep working with the SSR. That said, he didn't actively try to keep her away from cases, like Wosser had. 

A couple new agents joined the office, a couple “retired,” and Peggy spent most of her days performing the same tasks. Her mornings were filled with fetching files, organizing paperwork, and nights ranting about the idiocy of men to a very sympathetic waitress at the local automat. 

Very early in their acquaintanceship, Peggy decided that Angela Martinelli and was a godsend. The Italian actress-in-training seemed to agree, calling her “an English breath of fresh air among the smoggy vapid population,” and from there, a sincere friendship had begun.

“You need a vacation, English,” Angie said, filling Peggy’s third coffee that morning. “It’s not even February yet. I can see dark circles under that concealer, my friend. You work too much.”

“I can't take time off.” She didn't whine, because Peggy Carter did not whine. To be perfectly honest, she didn’t have much experience being friendly with other women. But there was something about emphatically complaining to another woman that made her heart a little lighter. Steve, for all his charm and kindness, could do little for her moods when he was across the Atlantic. “They're always on my case about something or other. I can't give them any extra ammunition.”

“You talk like we're still at war,” Angie laughed. 

“I feel like I am!” Peggy cried. “How can I make them take me seriously as a person? I’m not a ‘delicate female,’ yet that's all they see me as.”

“English, if I knew the answer to that, I would be dancing on Broadway instead of getting my bum pinched for pennies in tips. Sometimes I think my cousin Louisa had the right idea, doing burlesque. The whole family shunned her, of course, but what's the first thing they do when they need a money? Grease up Louisa for a loan.”

“That’s always a good back-up plan,” Peggy laughed into her napkin. 

“Nah, apparently I don't have enough curves for  _ that _ kind of stage. You'd be perfect for it, though.”

Peggy would never know what led to the following words exiting her mouth. “I think my husband would die if I ever did that.”

Angie slammed the coffee pot on the table and fell into the booth. “Hold the phone! Peg, you're married?!”

Peggy tried to say something, but her brain was just drawing a blank. “I, uh… I didn't mean to say that.”  _ Excellent spy work, Carter,  _ she hissed at herself internally. “I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“I'm flattered that your secret slipped out in front of me,” Angie teased, before her voice dropped and took on a serious edge. “But, why is it a secret? Are you gonna get deported? Is he a criminal?” She gasped, so loud that Peggy was glad the diner was deserted “Are you harboring a fugitive?”

“Oh, hush,” she hissed. “No, none of that.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “Then why the big hush-hush?”

“They don't know I'm married at work. No one knows, except his family and a few of our close friends.”

“And now you let me in on the secret,” Angie cooed. “Why keep Mr. Carter under wraps, though?”

“If I tell people about Steve, they might… It's just not the right time to tell people.”

“Uh-huh. I know I'm a blabber mouth, but I do know how to keep secrets,” Angie said. “I'm like a grave. I won't tell anybody, I promise.”

“Thank you, Angie.”

Angie clasped her hand before getting back up with the coffee pot. “Although I demand to meet this elusive Steve Carter soon,” she said. “You may be married, but your girlfriends always need to vet the guy.”

“Of course,” Peggy said, mentally swearing that she would keep Steve and Angie from meeting of it was the last thing she did. 

Conversation was quickly steered toward safer topics—idiots at work, the idiocy of men, the idiots that scouted for Broadway—and Peggy left for work at the “telephone company.”

***

Many cups of coffee later, both inside the SSR offices and out, Peggy found herself facing the glass window of a shop. Bright pink and dark red ribbons peeked at her from the displays, paper cards and flowers and heart-shaped boxes. Angie had dragged her through a number of stores, emphatic that they treat themselves to a shopping spree for the holiday of love. “Not that I have anyone,” Angie said, peering at herself in the mirror of one dress-shop. She sighed and ran her hands over the dark blue fabric. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t treat myself. And you, Mrs. Carter, should treat yourself too.”

Angie had proven to be like a dog with a bone, stubbornly latching on to the idea of Steve, and claimed her husband needed to do something to liven up Peggy’s moods. “Steve’s not the kind for big romantic gestures,” Peggy said. “I think we might just stay home.”

“You’re newly-wed, Peggy. Romance is not dead until at least the first child, according to my mother. Why she had four is beyond my understanding, but my father claimed all of us, so there’s probably something there.”

“Is there a point to all of this?” Peggy asked.

“My point,” Angie said, walking over to her friend, “is to give him a surprise.” She grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around, facing the lingerie section.

***

Peggy knew that Steve was probably not going to make it home for Valentine’s Day. It was fine. She honestly didn’t care. It wasn’t a big deal. She’d had few memorable Valentines before the war, mainly one former-fiancee, but the war had made it clear that Love and War didn’t mix as often as novels would have one believe. She spent the day with the Barnes, instead. 

Peggy had spoken to Winifred and Becca about the entire issue with Steve while she was with him in London. They had communicated by phone once he woke up, and understandably were upset that Steve couldn’t visit them before going to his mission. They didn’t hold it against either person, thankfully. In fact, Winifred had made such a series of innuendos about how that time was better spent that it was harder to tell who was more red by the end of the day, Peggy or Becca.

Steve missed Valentine’s Day. Still, Peggy wore the deep-red lace bustier and matching knickers to bed that night, and treated herself to an extra large helping of whiskey. It was about a week later, after a particularly splendid day at the office where her codebreaking skills were needed for once, that she came home to a surprise on her doorstep. “Steve!”

She nearly jumped into his arms, and her feet didn't even brush her ground. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe you’re back. Are you hurt? You weren’t even gone a month.”

“The Howlers decided to skip a turn. Something about sad honeymooners and Valentine’s Day.”

“Prats.” She kissed him, long and deep, just happy to have him in her arms again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. What do you say we go out, tonight? Let me take my best girl out on the town?”

“Are you sure? You are quite recognizable,  _ Captain.” _

“You might notice that I’m still wearing a beard.” He bent them backwards to he could tickle her collarbone, making her laugh. “Between that and the death rumors, I think we’ll be ok.”

“In that case, my darling, I would be delighted.”

Dinner was a wonderful event, and the dancing that followed even more so. Neither mentioned the tears streaming down faces as they danced together, slow and fast and everything in between. The part of the night that followed was also wonderful. Peggy wore her present, and the sound Steve made when her robe slipped from her shoulders to the floor would stay forever in her mind. 

Every kiss, every caress, every touch went straight to her memory, because Peggy never wanted to forget what Steve felt like. A hunger propelled her, making her push harder, deeper, faster against Steve until even he had to pull away. The way they made love was new, because Peggy knew now what it was like to not have Steve in her arms, in her bed, in her life again, and she never wanted to feel that emptiness again.

Steve’s mouth took over when his body couldn’t keep up anymore, loving her tenderly, drawing from her as many orgasms from her as she could stand, and that night was the deepest sleep she had known in over a month.

“Is this still the honeymoon phase?” Steve asked her the next morning over breakfast. He cooked, of course, because morning-Peggy had only perfected the art of making coffee.

“What do you mean?” she asked, already on her second cup.

“It’s just… Are you feeling ok?”

“I missed you, is all.”

“I’m glad, but are you sure you’re ok? You seemed a bit… desperate last night.”

“If someone hadn’t made it his mission to tease, I may have been a little gentler,” she said.

“That’s not it.” He looked at her, his gaze as open and honest as always, and Peggy found herself bending to his will.

“I’m just very glad to have you home,” she answered. “I find I can no longer sleep well when you’re gone.”

His face fell. “I’m so sorry, Peg. I can call the SSR and—”

“Don’t, Steve. I’m just being selfish, is all. You’re doing a lot more good out there than you would be doing here.”

“And if I didn’t want to fight anymore?”

That made her pause. “What do you mean?”

Steve looked away. “What if I didn’t want to fight anymore?”

That was not what Peggy was expecting Steve to say. He had all the change to keep fighting, while she was stuck at a desk playing secretary, and he wanted to give it up. She forced her voice to remain steady. “That’s entirely your choice. You are a good man, Steve. You can do a lot of good here as much as you can overseas. If you don’t want to fight anymore, you don’t have to.” She looked into her coffee to gather her thoughts. “Do you want to come back now?”

“I don’t know.” Steve walked to the icebox, making sure to avoid her eyes. “The boys are doing a lot. I’m really glad to help, and there is a lot of work to be done. HYDRA left a lot of loose ends.”

“But…” 

“But I know the work’s going to end some day. I didn’t think I was going to come back from the war alive. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t with the Howlers anymore.”

“The war is over,” she answered, almost hollowly. “There’s no rush, Steve. You can do whatever you want. Stay with the SSR, continue with the army, become a comic artist like you wanted. What makes you happy?”   
That made him turn his gaze back to her. “You do. And I know that it can’t be easy for you to be out here by yourself—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, soldier.” For some reason his kind tone twisted something inside her chest and she all but slammed down her cup. “Yes, we are married, but that does not mean we aren’t partners. I can take care of myself and I refuse to make you worry when you’re out there dodging bullets and taking down the bad guys.”

“You’re not happy here, Peg.”

“That is my business,” she snapped, her patience suddenly short. “I don’t need you to come down to the office and fight my battles for me.”

“I never said I wanted to fight your battles. I just want to help,” Steve argued, his own temper coloring his words.

“You have done enough help,” Peggy said. “The SSR office thinks you’re dead. That’s enough for them to know. I get enough comments from them already; they don’t need to know that you’re alive.”

“And if I want to tell them?”

“Then you’re going to kick the hornet’s nest for no reason! There is no need for you to go down there.”

“Peggy, what is going on that you don’t want me to know?” his voice was strong as steel, the order unquestionable in his voice, and Peggy decided that she’d had enough.

“You can’t order me around like one of your men,  _ Captain,” _ she spat. She threw back her chair and stormed to the entry hall.

Steve trailed after her. “Peggy, get back here. We need to talk about this.”

“I’m going to say some very nasty things if I stay,” she said, pulling on her coat and grabbing her purse. “I’m going to Angie’s apartment.”

She rushed out the door and slammed it behind her. She collapsed against it, trying to take deep breaths and calm down her temper. A number of thoughts raced through her head, but the strongest one made her groan in frustration. Peggy wrenched open the door again and walked back to Steve, who looked heartbroken in her wake.

She tugged him down and kissed him hard. “I love you. I’m angry with you. I’ll come back in a couple of hours.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she walked out again, fuming. She tried not to note that her heart felt lighter for her declaration, and that Steve had looked less morose. As she hailed a cab, head still swimming in anger, Peggy managed to decided she was glad of what she’d done. She'd taken to telling Steve she loved him any chance she got. He'd gotten away from her once and she was not going to have any regrets with her second chance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews?


	14. Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy have their first real fight. Angie helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the phrase hot and heavy? This chapter is the heavy.

“English?”

Peggy almost shuffled her feet, standing in front of Angie in the Griffith’s busy lobby. “I’m dreadfully sorry for calling on you this way, Angie, but I am dangerously close to killing my husband.” She ignored the glare Angie’s warden—ehm,  _ landlady _ —sent her way, and focused on her friend. “May I treat you to breakfast?”

“Sure thing, Peg. Let me get my coat.”

*

“So what has the illustrious Mr. Carter done now?” Angie asked after the waiter took their order. 

All the thoughts inside Peggy’s head spilled out and by the time their food arrived, Peggy was nearly a deflated balloon on the table. “Lord, he must hate me.”

“I don’t think that’s what people do for their enemies. Sounds more like love to me.”

“Angie, I was absolutely horrid! I always swore I would never become a harpy like that.”

“English, everybody has a temper. You had to have known that before you two got married.”

“Yes, but I only ever directed it at him a handful of times.”

“Then this is the handful-and-one.” Angie tucked into her food and rolled her eyes at her friend. “Sounds like he got a bit angry, too. Why are you so adamant that he not go down to the phone company?”

Peggy groaned. “I don’t want to be that kind of woman that has her husband go down and ‘fix things’ for her.”

“English, I think that is the last thing anyone would ever think of you.” Angie reached over and grabbed her hand. “What is really going on?”

Peggy found herself talking about it. About the sleepless nights, about the nightmares, about Steve’s ‘business trips.’ The more she talked, the easier she found it to breathe, until she finally talked herself dry.

“Damn, English. And you haven’t told Steve any of this?”

“He’s doing good work right now. He’s helping people. He’s continuing what we were doing during the war and he said he wants to leave and I just… I wish I had that same choice.”

Angie gave her a look that reminded Peggy of her mum whenever she lied. “And?”

“That’s it.”

_ “English…” _

“I don’t want him to worry, ok? He’s gone a lot, and I don’t want to be something he’s constantly thinking about.”

“That’s the opposite of love, you know that, right?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Peggy, I still haven’t met him, but I’m going to guess that Steve loves you. He’s going to worry about you just like you worry about him. But the war is over. Nothing’s going to happen to him.” She narrowed her eyes at Peggy’s scoff. “You can’t leave these things bottled up. You’re going to end up like my Uncle Fosco. He went after my Aunt Giada with a shotgun and then killed himself.”

“Heaven forbid,” Peggy muttered, used enough to Angie’s family history that little surprised her anymore.

“That’s what happens when you don’t take the voices in your head seriously. That, or it was because my aunt had a tendency to hit him on the head with her skillet. It happened before I was born, so I don’t know what happened exactly.”

“Oh, Angie.”

“Anyway… My mother says not to go to bed angry, but my dad says that’s codswallop. Take your pick, but go ahead and talk to Steve. And then I can talk to him after.”

“Angie…”

“What? I have yet to meet the man!”

***

They talked for a while, until even Angie could tell that Peggy was stalling and all but shoved her into a cab. “Go make time with your man, English. I want all the details tomorrow.”

Peggy paced in front of her front door until a voice sounded from the other side. “I can hear you thinking, you know.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” she said, walking inside. Steve was in the sitting room, arms crossed and gaze firmly fixed on his hands.

“Says the woman who stormed off this morning.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Must take a lot for the great Peggy Carter to say that she’s sorry,” he said, not even trying to disguise the sarcasm.

She scowled and walked into the sitting room. “Steve, I’m trying here!”

His form crumpled and he leaned forward, finally meeting her gaze. “I know.” His voice was softer, and she recognized his prepare-for-deep-talk tone. “I’m sorry for pushing you so hard this morning.”

“It’s my fault. Angie talked me around.” She looked around and scowled. “I can’t talk here. It reminds me too much of the lectures my mother would give me as a girl.”

“Kitchen?”

She sat down at the table and Steve followed.

“I really should meet her one day. Angie.”

“I will lose all sanity the day that happens.”

“So, you and Angie…”

“We talked. I talk to her a lot when you’re not here.”

“It’s good for you to have friends.”

“Is there any way for you to say that without it sounding like I am a misanthrope?”

“Uh… You don’t usually make friends outside of work?”

“Better, I guess.” He looked pained at her response, so she smiled at him. “I am a bit of an introvert, aren’t I?”

“I don’t think so. It’s just that I’ve never heard you talk about female friends before.”  _ The army tends to do that _ , she thought _. _ “I used to have them, before I joined the SSR. Back when I was training to become a codebreaker, I was very much a stereotypical woman. Dying for the latest gossip and being crazy about going out dancing with my friends.” Steve’s face scrunched up. no doubt imagining it, and Peggy laughed. “I was like my girlfriends, never imagining myself out on the front lines. I had a fiance, at the time, although now I think I would be more likely to smack him across the face. Reminds me a lot of Thompson.”

The expression on Steve’s face was hard to make out. “Fiancé?”

That made Peggy roll her eyes. “I said yes to you, did I not?”

“You never mentioned that part,” he groused, and Peggy laughed again. 

“I love you, darling, and only you. There is no need to be jealous.” She sighed, remembering her life before the war. “I was very silly,” she finally continued. “Before all of this started... I was training in codebreaking, back in England, and my brother got me a position at the SOE. Frank had asked me to marry him, and since that is what everyone expected, I said yes. Michael’s death snapped me out of it and I joined the SOE. Through them, I got to the SSR and became Agent Carter.”

“And Agent Carter was enough,” Steve said softly. “You were happy.”

_ Talk about hitting the nail on the head, _ Peggy thought. “Not happy, necessarily. It's just… I had a purpose, Steve.” She buried her head in her hands. “It's infuriating.”

“And now you're stuck here.”

“It just… it just frustrates me, is all.” Peggy looked up and sighed. “I know I can go back to the 107th. The boys take me seriously. Even if I am your best girl,” she laughed at the last part. 

“‘Do as Peggy says,’” Steve quoted. “Your word is law,  _ Director _ .”

“But the men here don’t see me that way,” Peggy said, glaring at the table. It hurt her a lot to admit that much. After Michael’s death, she had poured her grief and anger into her job, and the doors shut in her face just motivated her to keep working to open them up. While the war was going on, there was work she could do to prove herself. She could break enemy codes and encode friendly ones, and she trained to be useful in combat until every naysayer could be put in his proper place. 

The only thing that kept her going at times was her pride and the memory of Michael, and how much she wanted to make him proud of her. Even after she met Steve, she worked hard to maintain her reputation steel-strong and pristine. The image of ‘Agent Carter’ had taken a lot of work to establish, and to admit that it was not enough for her  _ now  _ was smarting to her pride, to say the absolute least. But Angie, away from it all, had helped her talk through her issues once already. 

“They just see me as a secretary. I don’t like it, and you need to know that, Steve. Not so you can go down to the office and say something, but because I want to be open with you.” She took a moment to gather her breath and continue. “Angie was talking to me, and she’s right about me not needing to bottle things up anymore.” Her mouth felt dry, but she pushed forward. “Field-work won’t last forever, at least not for women. Even if I were to join the Howlers, I would need a job after it runs out.” 

She paused to glance up at Steve. He merely sat there, waiting for her to continue. It wasn’t that she expected Steve to fight her—he never once expressed himself as a women-should-be-homemakers type—but it was unbelievably encouraging that he didn’t even question that she stay a working woman. Her chest loosened its vice on her lungs a bit, letting her breathe deeper. “I need to make them see me as an agent, Steve. I can’t let them win.”

He was quiet for a long time, meeting her eyes the entire time. “Is that why you were upset that I told you I might leave the field?” His head cocked to the side and he pinned her with a look that made her want to look away. “You were jealous?”

“I’m not that petty,” she sniffed, refusing to admit it. 

“It’s not that…” He was quiet for a while again. “I… I always wanted to do the right thing.”

“You hate bullies,” she said. It was no secret with Steve.

“My ma would tell me stories about my da when I was little, and when the war broke out, I wanted to enlist like he did. At first it was about doing the right thing, but then Bucky got drafted. He didn’t want to go, but he did, and he never stopped worrying about me. I wanted to join even more, maybe get on the same infantry so I could…”

“Keep an eye on him?” she whispered.

“Great job I did,” he smirked. Peggy smacked his shoulder and he kept going. “During the war, I was happy. I was helping the cause, I was still with Bucky, and then when I met you… It was perfect. And then Bucky died and I died and you had to come back here and…”

“You survived the war,” Peggy reminded him. “If you want to stop fighting, it’s your choice. There’s no shame in that.”

“I never thought about the end of the war,” he confessed.  “would fantasize, sometimes, about being with you after it was all over but I never got farther than that. Asking you to marry me was the craziest thing I did.”

“Says the man who volunteered for the serum,” she smiled. 

“It’s just… I leave you and suddenly you’re the one fighting the bullies. I just want to do something about that. Maybe if I left the field, if I came back here...”

“Steve, love, there is nothing you can do,” she said, not unkindly.

“I was a pretty good housekeeper when Bucky and I lived together,” he smiled. “Want kids? I’ll stay home with them while you bring home the bacon.”

Peggy’s stomach swooped and she really did not want to analyze the meaning. “Many years into the future aside, Steve, you coming back wouldn’t solve anything.”

“It would make me worry less about you,” he said softly. “We got married and we’ve spent less time together apart than together.”   
“That’s what happens when my husband is a hero.” She reached out and tangled her fingers with his. “But the question is what you want to do.”

“I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Then you can stay with the boys until you figure it out. That job’s not going anywhere. Unless you want to walk away… you don’t have to stay.”

“Someone has to do the work and I’m more indestructible than the rest of the men.”

His voice took on a bitter end and Peggy thought she knew why.

“Is this about James?” He didn’t answer, but his fingers tightened a bit. “I know you have nightmares.”

“I’m fine.” His voice closed off, and Peggy knew he was close to getting into another mood. He’s been infamous for them during the war and the last thing she wanted was to deal with  _ the Captain _ instead of Steve. He made to pull his hands away, but she held on tighter. “I hear you get up at night, after we make love. You wander around the house, I’ve heard you.”

“Do you think super-hearing is part of the side effects of that blood transfer?”

“Stop deflecting, Steven. I get nightmares too, my darling. I get a lot of them, especially when you’re away. I hate them, too.”

Steve let go of her hands and pulled her chair away from the table. He gently lifted her from her seat and settled her onto his lap. Her arms wrapped around her until her face was buried into his chest. The remaining tension in her shoulders fell away and she sank into his hold. “I dream about you,” she whispered. “I dream that I wake up and that you’re still in the ice. That I imagined all of this. That you’re still dead and the Barnes don’t know me and that Angie’s just a waitress.” Her fingers gripped his shirt. “I’m still terrified that none of this is real.”

“I’m real, love,” Steve said softly. His head lowered until his mouth could reach her neck, and he pressed soft, whispery kissed to her skin. “I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should have probably pointed out that Angie didn't help the fight happen so much as helped with the resolution. Also, yes, I'm going back to cannon and making Peggy's brother be Michael. 
> 
> You guys sat through the heavy- up next is the hot!


	15. Make-Up Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after every good fight? Make-up sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hot, as promised.

Peggy pressing herself as close to Steve as she could, suddenly desperate to kiss him. Her hands went up around his shoulders, guiding his mouth up to hers. He smiled into her and kept his pace, making her mad. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, gently pushing back her hair to with his free hand before skimming his fingers over the skin of her throat. 

As independent and proud as Peggy was, she secretly loved Steve’s bulk, and how he only needed to hold her to make her feel safe and protected. But whenever he touched her like this, delicately and almost reverently, she always remembered his body pre-serum. She remembered the passion in his eyes, how his body always struggled to match his spirit. How he looked at her, truly  _ at _ her, and how that never changed even after his body did. 

The only times the softness of his past matched with the present was when he sketched her, or when he insisted on making love to her as slowly and delicately as he could.

But Peggy didn’t want delicate. She wanted the fire in him to burn away the coldness that had settled inside her, and she wanted to love him,  _ now. _ She spread her fingers over his back and dug her nails into the wide expanse of perfect flesh that no shirt could hide. On instinct, his mouth was suddenly hungry on hers and Peggy eagerly responded with a hunger of her own. She bit down on his lip, hard, just like he liked it, and Steve pulled her skirt up so she could straddle him properly. He was hard already, and Peggy bucked herself against him. “I need you, Steve.”

“I need you too, Peg, so much.” He made to stand up, no doubt ready to throw her on their bed, but Peggy stopped him. 

“I need you right now.”

“I'll take you to bed, Peg, don't worry—”

“Right here, Steve. On the table.”

She expected him to blush. She expected him to at least stammer and stare at her. But she had not expected him to sweep an arm across the surface of the table, sending everything crashing to the floor before setting her back down. He stepped between her legs, making quick work of the clothing that separated them before practically collapsing on top of her.

That wasn’t part of the plan. “Steve?”

“Condoms are in the bedroom,” he groaned against her bare stomach.

“Oh, damn.” She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him. “I wanted to do this here.”

“Is there something about the concept of the kitchen that makes you randy?” Steve asked.

“No, but I have heard that sex in unconventional places can be quite… interesting.”

“Angie again?” He asked, standing up and pulling her back enough that her bottom rested at the edge of the table.

“No, Melody Patterson in secondary school.”

“Bucky used to say something about that, too. Let’s see if that’s right.” He knelt down and spread her legs, opening her up to him, and even though Peggy knew what was coming, she still let out a gasp as he licked a long, hard stripe up her sex.  _ “Steve!” _

“Yes, dear?”

“Don’t stop.” He didn’t.

They had not been together very long, in the grand scheme of things. It had been part of Peggy’s worries when she “remained” married to Steve. How was she to gauge their relationship and predict how it would go? What if they were unhappy together? How well did they really know each other?

The answer, she had come to realize, was ‘quite well,’ at least in the biblical sense. She made a mental note to ask Steve about the possibility of being nymphomaniacs, but as all the blood in her brain rerouted to… other places, that note would become well and truly lost. Steve and Peggy had learned each other’s bodies very well, a fact that was demonstrated as Steve pulled back from her entrance to nibble on her inner thighs.

She gasped, back arching off the table, and her hands flew to his head. “Steve!”

“No teasing during make-up sex?”

“You’re next, Rogers. Remember that.”

Steve smirked at her, not that she could see him, and returned his attention to her. She was already pink and leaking, and as he rubbed a single finger up and down along her lips, more wetness seeped out. “You’re soaking wet, Peggy.”

“I wonder why.” She inhaled sharply as he breached her with a single finger and no warning. “Oh, god, Steve. More, please.”

“More?” A second finger slid in easily next to the first, and a third with no hesitation. “Enough for you, Peggy?”

“Not enough,” she whined, bucking her hips and trying to get friction from his fingers, but he refused to move. “Not enough, Steve, please.”

“Please what?”

_ “Move!” _

“As you wish.” He crooked his fingers upwards and pulled them out before spearing back in. He found the rough spot inside her with ease and she moaned. “There, Steve, oh  _ fuck!” _

That word seemed to trigger something more in Steve, and he started moving faster. “Touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Help me make you come. Let me see you fall apart for me, Peggy.”

“Steve…” her hands cupped her bare breasts, pinching hard at her nipples until they were angry and red, red enough to match the swollen bud at the top of her cunt. “Steve, please.”

His fingers were a blur, pounding away in an attempt to replicate the actions of his cock. He didn’t dare slow his pace, not when the walls of her sex were threatening to cut off circulation to his fingers, and he started stroking himself under the table. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my fingers, let me see what you want to do to me.” His mouth dropped over her clit, and he sucked, too hard and too fast and just on the right side of rough enough to make Peggy scream as she exploded around him. She sprayed wetness all over his hand and mouth, and her hands squeezed so hard on her breasts she was guaranteed to bruise. Ecstasy raced through every nerve ending, and Peggy couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t matter because it felt so  _ good _ and then the feeling started to give way to pain, and she tried to take in enough air to tell Steve to stop, but she could only spread her legs wider as she moved her hands to his, trying and failing to push him away, but Steve didn’t stop his attack, and he kept fucking her with his fingers, harder, deeper, faster, and even when she finally managed to cry out and attempt to pull away, he kept moving. The fire running through her flitted between pain and pleasure, suddenly, until she wasn’t sure what she was feeling but Steve needed to stop-stop-please-stop-oh-god- _ don’t- _ stop-don’t-stop and she wasn’t even making noise anymore, just digging her nails into the wood of the table and bucking up, trying to get his fingers deeper into her. Steve seemed unaware of the entire battle she was trying to fight, and he finally pressed down on the spot just below her navel and shoved so hard against her spot inside that she cut off mid-protest and came gushing around him again. The pleasure crashed through her like a wave, nothing that she had ever felt before and suddenly she couldn’t see or hear, only feel her heartbeat drumming a tattoo.

The blackness receded to soft words and light touches, and Peggy fought to open her eyes. A shiver raced through her, and she slowly realized that it wasn’t a single shiver. Instead her entire body was shaking, almost like she was sobbing, but with tremors making every muscle in her body twitch and spasm. She worked a hand down to her core and pressed against her mound. It was sopping wet, but the pressure felt so good, and she sighed. 

“Did I hurt you?”

She forced her head up and saw Steve kneeling by her head. “Steve?”

“I think you passed out.”

That might explain the happy drowsiness under the twitching. “Steve…”

“Was it too much? It was too much, wasn’t it? I should have known I was hurting you. Peggy, I’m so sorry—”

She reached her free hand over her head and pressed it to his lips. “It was your best work to date, my darling.”

Steve exhaled in relief and lifted up a gleaming hand. “I have never seen you do that before.”

The fog in her head cleared a little, and she realized what was on his hand. “Is that..?” She removed her own hand and brought it to her face. It was drenched just from cupping herself. Without really thinking about it, she slipped a couple of fingers in her mouth and sucked her juices from them. A subtle, almost soapy taste danced over her tongue, and she pulled the hand from her mouth. “It’s not unpleasant,” she said. “Doesn’t taste anything like you, though.” She looked back up at Steve and frowned at his expression. “Steve?”

He stood up and kissed her, drawing her tongue into his mouth as if he could swallow her essence secondhand. His hands braced him over her, but he hadn’t bothered turning her head so his beard tickled her nose as he kissed her upside down. The situation was so strange that Peggy found herself laughing. “You’re so strange.”

He pulled back and looked down at her almost sheepishly. “I don’t think I ever drew anything as erotic as that.”

“Me tasting myself is erotic?”

“Very.”

She laughed again and turned her head enough to look at the rest of him. “Did you take care of yourself?”

“You passing out might have taken the wind out of my sails.”

“Looks like the wind is picking up again,” she teased. “I think you might need some relief, there, darling.”

“I don’t think you’re in too much condition to help me out, Peg.”

She had seen him take himself in hand before, and there was something to be said about the way he worked himself into completion, crying her name as he came. But her head was almost level with his erection, and an idea formed in her mind. She shoved herself to the end of the table so that her head was hanging over the edge, and winked up at Steve. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“You’re crazy,” he said, staring down at her. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“Does that mean no?” Peggy beamed as he walked toward her, holding his cock so that the tip barely brushed her chin.

“You’re a nymphomaniac.”

“Only for you, my love.”

Steve step forward and Peggy opened her mouth. He went down easily, and Peggy found herself able to take him deeper than ever before. Her throat tensed when he touched it, but nothing like when she swallowed him down right-way-up.  _ “Peggy!” _

She couldn’t say anything, but she knew that Steve had thrown his head back, already lost in his pleasure, and she felt only a little put out that she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t really see anything but the round globes that dangled in front of her, swinging with Steve’s every move. Peggy brought her hands up and cupped Steve’s ass, bringing him closer and making him move gently in her mouth. She squeezed, trying to prompt him to move faster, but he didn’t seem to think that she could take it.

“Slow, my love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She groaned around his length, making him stiffen in more ways than one. She debated moving herself, and was about to do it when she was distracted by his balls. She kept one hand on his arse, then let the other trail slowly downward, down until she could stroke the back of his sack. 

It was like she’d found a magical button, and Steve pushed into her mouth. 

_ “Peggy!” _

She hummed and stroked him again, once, twice, and then he was gone, spurting his seed down her throat. She couldn’t breathe, and tried to cough, but the vibrations just made him come harder. He pulled away, suddenly, nearly catching himself on her teeth, and spilled a bit of himself on her face. She coughed again, somehow made a bit go up her nose. She surged upright, nearly catching Steve’s head, Steve, who had one hand flat on the table and the other fisting himself furiously, trying to wring out the last bit of pleasure from his…wringer.

The thought made Peggy laugh, and Steve collapsed against the table for the final time, shaking from his orgasm. That made her laugh harder, and Steve stared at her. “I broke you.”

“No—no you didn’t, darling, it’s just… wringer. Get it?” She fell back again, laughing hard enough to make her wince. “Ow.”

Steve shook his head and chuckled. “You couldn't breathe, could you? I gave my wife brain damage.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. “Just… shut up.”

That made Steve laugh, which made her laugh, and soon they were a puddle of hysterical giggles on the table. “Ow, it hurts to laugh.”

“Serves you right” Peggy said, even as she massaged her own ribs. “That was wonderful.”

“You should feel more adventurous more often,” Steve said, kissing her lightly.

“So I should pay more attention to Howard’s sexual escapades? He mentioned something during the way about the insertion of fingers up the rectum once…”

“The prostate.” Steve nodded. “You forget that I grew up in a lot of different neighborhoods, Peg. A lot of men loved other men, and that’s one way they did it.”

“Did you ever…”

“No.” He looked down at her, his voice suddenly very serious. “The aren’t bad people. A few times, when I was too sick, I had some neighbors that would pass along some food or blankets. It was kind of them. They were good people, no matter what the church says.”

He looked at her with something akin to desperation, and Peggy thought she might understand. “I never said they weren’t. You know I trained a lot of men. Not all of them made eyes at  _ me. _ ” She shrugged. “As long as they were good soldiers, I never had a problem with them.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, it’s just… I don’t like bullies, even when they’re not focused on me.”

Peggy understood. “They were your friends.”

“Some of them. Others wanted to know how much I was willing to experiment. Apparently the way I looked…”

“I understand that.” She kissed his shoulder. “I am very glad you married me, instead. And if you ever do want to try that…”

“I don’t know, Peggy, but if I ever do, you’ll be the first I’ll call.”

“Prat.” She rested her head on his chest. “This was fun.”

“Does that mean we’re going to have another go at the table?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh. “Or maybe the sofa or the bathtub or—”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Is that a challenge?”

Peggy rolled her eyes and made herself get off the table. Her legs threatened to give way under her, but she forced them into submission. “I’m getting that diaphragm tomorrow and we are doing this again.” She started walking toward the bedroom, sparing a single glance over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

“Are you sure?”

“We still have rubbers in the bedroom. Or are you too tired?” She kept walking, ignoring the  _ ‘Peggy, wait!’ _ behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing smut is something I need a lot of feedback on. What did you guys think of this chapter? Please let me know, even if it's just 'you suck' or 'I liked it.' I want to keep writing this kinda stuff (and by stuff I mean sex. Lots and lots of sex).

**Author's Note:**

> This is only the first chapter. I'll post the second after class!
> 
> A/N: CURRENTLY UNDER REVISION. Updated 09Nov2016- Ch 3


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